Raising Hell
by Little Illy
Summary: When Spike is cursed to regress to childhood, he finds himself under the care of, you guessed it, Angel. (Sillyness, little Spike and lots of WesFred fluff. Yes, I didn't kill Fred. I'm in denial)
1. Someone Gets Smaller

**Chapter 1   
Someone Get Smaller**

A/N: This is a response to a challenge by Higgy... I just loved her fic! So if you like this, or even if you don't, go read her fic, 'Not so Big Bad'. It's really good!

This is actually my first Angel fic, so be gentle. And any inconsistencies are completely intentional... sorta... I also haven't come to terms with the fact that Fred is gone, so I decided she wasn't! And now she's happy with Wes! Because that's how I like my world... 

* * *

Spike allowed himself to recline into the psychiatrist's soft lounge chair, deciding, if he was going to waste his time here, he was going to waste it in comfortably. He looked over at Dr. Mordred, who sniffed. "Uptight sod," Spike muttered to himself. Dr Mordred raised an eyebrow, and hurriedly scribbled something in his notebook. Spike kicked off his boots with a smirk, earning him another reproachful sniff from Dr Mordred. Spike didn't care, infact, the more annoyed the doctor got, the better Spike felt. Maybe this psychiatrist wouldn't be a boring waste of time after all.

"So Spike, what would you like to talk about?" Dr Mordred asked in a mind- numbingly calm voice.

"Gee, I dunno. Maybe I wanna pour out my heart to a perfect stranger?!"

"Hmm, quite." Dr Mordred smiled, reaching towards the coffee table for a bowl of peanuts. "Would you like something to eat?" he offered Spike the bowl.

Spike grabbed a handful and unceremoniously threw them into his mouth. "And that's another thing!" He said angrily. "You psychiatrists are all, 'Get comfortable, relax, tell me all your problems.' Well you know what? It's hard to get comfortable with some weirdo pervert taking notes on what a man has to say! Deciding weather you're bloody well sane or not!" Spike's voice quivered, and he suddenly burst into tears, "I never knew my father." He wailed. "It was just me an' mum, and it ended badly between us. No one liked my poems" He sobbed "They were a cry for help! No one cared! No one ever cares!!" Spike caught himself, tears streaming down his cheeks. "What the bloody hell is this?" He choked.

"Misery peanuts." The doctor replied dismissively, "They make you verbalise your misery. Now, you were talking about your father?"

"Misery peanuts." Sobbed Spike, "Great, just great."

"Ahem. Your father?" Dr Mordred prompted.

"Huh, you probably know more about him than I do... bet you can read my thoughts too. Why not just open up my head and eat my brains! Go on!" Spike said, tilting his head sideways. The misery peanuts were really getting to him.

"I see..." Said Dr Mordred, going to his desk and pulling out a comically large syringe. "It seems to me, that you have some unresolved trauma in your early childhood. I suggest regression re-immersion therapy."

"What?" asked Spike, getting a hold of his emotions. "Is that where I start sucking my thumb and act like a kid. Then you can be my mother and say how much you love me?" Spike shivered, "Oh bloody hell that's sick. I'm gonna have nightmares now..."

Dr Mordred laughed, "No, it's more or a literal regression." He said, rolling up Spike's sleeve to reveal his vein.

"Literal?" Spike cried, trying to get up. But the Doctor pushed him down again.

"Just relax," He said. With the ease that comes from years of practice Dr Mordred inserted the needle into Spike's arm, and expelled it's contents into his blood stream. "Nothing to worry about." He said as Spike when limp. "Until you wake up. Then I think there will be a lot to worry about." 

* * *

Angel was looking over some papers at his desk, something he did rather a lot, when Harmony delivered his afternoon memos. He thumbed through the usual junk; client this, reports that, demon something else, when he came upon something unusual. "Harmony?" he called. His secretary poked her head around the door, "What's this message?" he asked, holding out a memo for her to inspect, "Spike transferred to hospital?"

Harmony took the card and peered at it. "Huh, I think... Spike's in the hospital!" She chimed, "Wow, mystery solved!"

"Yes, thankyou," Angel tersely replied, "but why?"

Harmony sighed "It says right there; regression to youth."

"And, what does that mean?" He asked.

"Duh, he's become a child! I thought that much was obvious."

Angel leapt from his chair aghast, "He's what?"

* * *

Angel was slumped in a chair beside Spike's bed in the hospital. He had come straight from his office, unable to believe it was true, but there he was, tiny little Spike, fast asleep in the hospital bed. He couldn't be more than 6 years old, Angel thought as he watched the tiny chest move up and down. Spike's hair was longer, and if possible, more blond, but the rest was the same, same little scar over his eyebrow. Some one had dressed him in a child's hospital gown with dinosaurs all over it. Spike's big clothes were folded on the end of the bed. Who ever had done this had obviously taken care of Spike.

He looks so small and helpless, thought Angel, hardly like Spike at all.

As he watched, the little boy began to wake. He made a little mewing noise and rubbed his tiny hands over his pink nose. Opening his eyes, he squinted at his surroundings.

Angel couldn't help himself. He smiled. "Hi" He whispered. Spike gave him a sleepy puzzled look. He tried to remind himself that the tired little cherub in front of him was Spike, but it was impossible. This frightened, innocent little boy couldn't possibly be the annoying, pain-in-the-ass Angel knew and hated. "I'm Angel" He whispered.

Spike rubbed his eyes, and looked bemusedly up at Angel, "I...I...I'm... thirsty." He mumbled.

"Are you?" Angel asked quietly, "What would you like?"

Spike thought for a minute. "Juice?"

Angel furrowed his brow. Spike, one of the most violent and bloodthirsty vampires in history, was six years old, lying in bed with a dinosaur hospital gown on and asking for juice. Something was very, very wrong.


	2. Grownup Discussions

**Chapter 2  
Grown-up Discussions**

A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Wow... I already have more than I ever got for my HP fics ; Any way, I'm really pleased I got some feed back!! Yay!

You'll notice most of the main fang gang in this one, but really only cameos from Gunn, Lorne and Harm. I'm focusing on Spike and Angel (oviously) for their various father/son issues (with each other and others) and on Fred and Wes because they're cute, and Spike could do with a mother figure.

There will be some cuteness this chapter! But much more cuteness next chapter, I'm trying to spread out the little-Spike-sweetness with some actual plot. )

* * *

Angel gave Spike a worried look, "Well, um, yeah, ok." He mumbled, looking around the hospital ward for assistance, "I could get you some juice. For now. But, uh, the thing is. Maybe, there's...something else you want?"

Spike looked confused, "Can't I have juice?" He asked.

Angel reached out a hand to pat his tiny leg, "Yeah, of corse you can." He said, catching sight of a nurse. "Ah Miss, can we have some, er, juice?"

The nurse smiled, "You want something to drink?" She asked Spike, who nodded. "Ok, I'll fetch you something," she went into a side room, and returned with a plastic cup filled with dark liquid.

"Is that..."Angel began, as Spike took a long sip.

"Well, he is a vampire isn't he?" She said. "The doctor will be with you shortly." And the nurse left them alone again.

Angel looked over at Spike, who grinned at him, revealing his upper lip, covered in blood. Angel smiled awkwardly, and reached over to wipe it away. There was the sound of advancing footsteps as the door to the room opened and the gang walked in.

"We came right away," Wes said, walking briskly over to Angel.

"The memo said Spike was in hospital," Said Fred, her eyes falling on the blond boy in the hospital bed, "Where...?"

"You're looking at him." Angel said, getting to his feet and awkwardly running a hand through his hair.

The gang just stared at Spike, unable to speak.

Finally Fred took a tentative step towards Spike, "Can we...is he ok?" She asked.

Angel half shrugged, "I don't know why he's like this, but he seems alright. He asked for something to drink." Wesley shot him a questioning look, "Juice." Angel elaborated, "He asked for juice."

Fred knelt down beside Spike's bed, and shuffled closer to him, "Hi," she whispered, giving Spike a wave. He gave her a bashful wave back, shyly turning his head away. Fred giggled, "He's so cute."

Wesley coughed, "Cute, I'm sure, but we don't know anything about his condition. What ever made him this way might have done other things to him, bad things. We can't be sure. As such, we should treat him as a danger."

Fred scoffed, "Oh c'mon Wes, look at him! He's not a danger! Are you?" She asked. Spike gave her a nervous look. Fred patted his hair and Spike grinned shyly. The simple exchange over, Fred beamed back at Wesley, who smiled a small smile for her benefit.

"He's a cutie-patootie that's for sure," Lorne said, walking towards the bed too.

Fred caught her breath, "Lorne, I dunno, maybe you shouldn't get to close. He might... get frightened."

But Spike didn't seem phased by the green horned man before him. On the contrary, he extended his hand in a wave. "Hiya." He said, obviously getting over his original state of shock at waking up in the hospital beside strangers.

"What did the doctors say about his, uh, condition?" Wes asked.

"They didn't. I got here and the nurse said some one would be with me shortly. I was just waiting when he woke up."

As if on que, Dr Mordred appeared at the door. "Ah, Mr Angel, I see you got my message."

"What's going on?" Angel demanded, "Why is Spike…"

"All cute and little" Fred finished for him.

"After a short consultation with the patient, it became apparent that he had some turmoil in his youth," the Doctor began, "So I introduced a regression re-immersion therapy."

Gunn took a menacing step towards the doctor, "You did this?" He asked.

"Yes. It's a medical procedure." He assured them calmly, "The patient expressed feelings of abandonment and rejection in his youth. I instigated the regression re-immersion therapy to help him deal with these feelings."

"You keep saying that, but it's not making anymore sense." Said Gunn.

Dr Mordred sighed and said, painfully slow, "I turned Spike, into, a child." The doctor sniffed distastefully, "The man already acted like a child, I'm sure this will be an easy adjustment."

"How long will he be like this?" asked Wes.

"Just until he gets over his emotional trouble at this age."

"Which will take how long?"

"Anywhere between a day and years. He will psychically age, so if he never gets over his feelings, he can always grow out of it" There where a few panicked looks at this statement, which the doctor took an obvious delight in.

"Is he still all fangs and blood drinking?" Lorne asked.

The Doctor nodded "The spell doesn't change that. He probably doesn't realise it though. He doesn't have a complete memory, a lot of things had to be hidden in his regression. Tell him what you like. He'll still need blood. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of other patients to deal with." He said and strode briskly out of the room.

Angel furrowed his brow. "This can't be good." He sighed, slumping into the nearby chair.

Gunn smiled down at the beaming Spike, "but you gotta admit, he's a lot less annoying like this."

"Spoken like a man without children." Lorne said.

* * *

Spike didn't know which way to look, everyone in the room was so new and exciting. People kept patting him on the head, and giving him big smiles. They all seemed very interested in him, and they had been nice enough to get him something to drink. "I'maa Spike." He said proudly, pointing to his chest.

The big square man with spikey black hair stared wearily at him. "Well, looks like he remembers that at least."

Spike didn't much like the way the man was frowning, so he turned to the smiley woman kneeling beside him. "I'maa Spike" He said again.

She grinned at him, "Hi, I'm Fred." She giggled.

The man with spiky hair grumbled, "Fred, this is hardly the time for introductions. We have to figure out what to do with him!"

"What can we do?" Asked Wes, "He has to 'work through his issues at this age'. We don't even know what these issues are. Spike will be no help. He's too young to understand."

Spike felt something cold slip down his spine. There was something unpleasant, less than warm, in what the last two men had said. The room, once full of happy exciting people, now seemed cold and scary, and the people around him where mean. The spiky haired man was the meanest, Spike was afraid of the way he kept glaring. He couldn't understand a lot of what they were saying, but he knew now they were mad at him for some reason. This realisation filled Spike with fear.

"Maybe there's a spell? Or, a counter curse? This is a magical medical procedure, there's gotta be a way to reverse it." Gunn suggested.

"Not necessarily," Wesley sighed, "Not every spell can be reversed."

Spike's hands shook as he took another gulp of his drink. They weren't happy with him. He had done something wrong. They were deciding what to do with him. He felt scared and alone. He tried to steady his hands, but they kept shaking, and his cup overturned, spilling red liquid down his front. Spike burst into tears.

Everyone stopped talking, and looked nervously at the crying child, "Hey, hey," The nice woman, Fred, said, throwing her arms around the boys bowed head, "It's alright. No use crying over spilt...blood."

Spike choked on sobs and blood. Around him, the grown-ups looked worried and awkward, but no one looked angry, and he liked being hugged. "I'm sorry" He sobbed. "I di'nt mean'a be bad."

Fred hugged him tight again, "You're not in trouble Spike, it's just a bit of a spill is all." She looked up nervously at the spiky haired man.

"Fred, why don't you take Spike to my room and get him cleaned up." He suggested. "I'll call Harmony, have her send some clean clothes up. I'll, uh, be up later. We'll just work some things out here."

Fred nodded and pulled Spike into her arms. "C'mon Spike. We'll go get cleaned up ok?" He nodded into her shoulder as she walked toward the door. "You're not in trouble," She whispered into his ear. Spike clutched the fabric of her collar in his hands.

* * *

"Mother-hen Fred seems to be tapping into those famous maternal instincts." Lorne said once she had left with Spike.

Wesley furrowed his brow, "Yes, she does seem to have taken a shine to the boy."

"That boy is Spike," Angel reminded them, "He's not just any little orphan we're looking after. He's the same old Spike that makes trouble everyday. Only younger. We shouldn't treat him any different."

"That's a bit harsh," Said Lorne, "blaming the son for the sins of the... older version."

"It's not harsh," said Gunn, "It's realistic. Just because he's little, doesn't mean he's any less of a problem."

"He'll be more of a problem," Angel sighed, "What are we going to do with him?" Letting him 'work through his emotional trauma' is all well and good, but how long will that take? And in the mean time, who's going to look after him? Kids need watching all the time. They need feeding and cleaning. And even if we found a counter spell tomorrow, he still needs somewhere to stay tonight."

Wes shuffled nervously, "Well, Fred appears to be comfortable with Spike, I dare say... we could watch him, just for one night."

Angel rubbed his forehead but the frown lines didn't go away. "No, no, I'll take him" Wes let out a sigh of relief. "This... is my fault," Angel continued, "He can stay with me tonight and we'll figure out what to do tomorrow. We all need some sleep, especially me." Gunn and Lorne nodded, and slowly left the room. Wes stood there a moment longer, before he nodded curtly and left as well.

Angel collected Spike's big clothes, wondering if they where allowed to leave. Doubtless no one would mind, Spike wasn't sick after all, he was just small. Angel didn't try to think about it, but the thoughts kept coming. _Why did I agree to take Spike? Why do I feel like this is my burden?_ And there was a simple answer. He needed a second chance; to do it over again, to make it right this time, to make up... He tried to push the thoughts away. Thinking like that could only lead to one place, one person, and it was too hard to go down that path, and come back again to a world that knew nothing of it. "This, Spike, is not my son." He whispered, and he knew it was true. But still, something told him, Spike was his chance, to try again, and maybe then...It would be better. It wouldn't be though. Angel tried to assure himself. This wasn't a divine test, it was just Spike. And he wasn't Conner.


	3. Various Sleeping Arrangements

**Chapter 3  
Various Sleeping Arrangements**

A/N: I don't know what everyone calls 'flannels' (the little miniature towels one gets wet and soapy and uses to wash with.) I know sometimes they're called 'wash-cloths', or 'washers'. Heh, I puzzled over it for ages, but I went with flannels, 'cause that's what we call them. P

Finally, for all those fans of pointless cuteness (like me), here is drum roll…A chapter of pointless cuteness! Yay!

* * *

Angel opened the door to his apartment. There was warm light spilling from the hall, and faint sounds of splashing and singing from the hall. The whole apartment hummed with comforting, domestic warmth, and for a moment, Angel felt like announcing, "Honey, I'm home." Instead, he walked hesitantly towards the bathroom. "Fred?" he called as he got closer and the singing got louder.

She was kneeling beside the bath tub, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, jeans splattered with water. The Texan scientist was holding Spike's wrist and washing under his arms with the flannel. "Splish-Splash I was taking a bath," She sang, as Spike giggled, "All on a Saturday night."

"Rub-a-dub I was splashing in the tub," Spike sang nervously.

Fred laughed, "You're catching on fast Spike."

Angel nocked on the door, "Hi," He said, smiling despite himself.

Fred gave him a cheery smile back, "Hey, we're just rub-a-dub splashing in the tub!"

"I can see that." Angel said, "Um, Fred, can I have a word?"

Fred nodded and handed Spike the flannel, "I'll leave you in charge Cap'n. Be sure to keep things ship-shape." Spike saluted her gravely and began to construct a white bubble bath beared on his chin.

Fred and Angel walked into the lounge room and sat down at the table. He looked away for a long while, then turned determinedly to face her. "I'm going to look after him." He said.

Fred furrowed her brow. "Really? I mean, I'm sure you can, but you've got a lot on, we've all got a lot on, but you've got a lot a lot, and I really like Spike, well little Spike..." She looked up from her fidgeting thumbs to see Angel starring at her. He looked a little confused, and a little pleading, she knew she couldn't win. "You... really want to do this don't you?" she sighed.

Angel nodded, "I... I let Spike go see this Doctor guy, and ..." He trailed off with a sigh, "Spike... he's like this because of me. Not little, I mean, he's... a vampire because of me. When he was sired, I looked after him, he was almost like my son. I was responsible for him, just like any parent. I had to teach him to feed, and to hunt, and how to survive. I taught him to kill, to maim, to torture. I taught him to be evil. And now- I can do it again, play the father, but this time, I'll do it right." Angel looked earnestly at Fred, hoping he'd convinced her.

Fred gave him a considered look, "Angel, I don't believe you. There's something you're not saying. But if you want to do this, you can."

"Thanks" Angel sighed.

"But, if you wanted to tell me, I'd listen. You can trust me you know."

Angel shook his head, "Fred, there isn't... it's not-"

He was interrupted by a call from the bathroom, "I'm ready to get out!"

"Hold that thought," Fred said, skipping toward the bathroom, "I forgot little kids can't get out of the bath themselves!" She giggled.

Angel didn't wait long, as almost immediately there was a nock at the door. It was Harmony, holding a little bundle of clothes in small sizes. "Hey, I brought some clothes for Spike," She said, craning her neck to see if the child was in view.

"Thanks Harmony," Angel muttered, shutting the door abruptly in Harmony's face. He rifled through the clothes, tiny boxers, tiny pants, tiny shirts with Thomas the Tank Engine on them. There where some tiny blue and grey pj's. He threw the other clothes on the couch and headed towards the bathroom.

"And you gotta dry the water from your ears," Fred was saying, as she towelled Spike dry, "or you get little mini oceans in there." Spike gasped. "It's true! And then one day, when you're not expecting it, you'll get this funny tickling in your ear," she tickled the side of Spike's ear, "A little tickle, an itch, like something's wiggling around in there." Spike was laughing, and squirming away from Fred, but she continued, "Then Splosh! Out comes a fish!" Spike laughed again as Fred went back to towelling his hair. "So you must always dry out you're ears. Unless of corse, you wanna grow fish in there."

Spike leaned in close to Fred as she wrapped the towel tighter around him, patting his hair, "Fred," He began, "If I'm Spike, who are you?"

She laughed, "You just said it! I'm Fred!"

Spike shook his head, "Mmm... but I mean... are you...are you my mum?"

Fred stopped towelling Spike's hair. Her breath caught in her throat. "Uh...no, no. I'm... I'm not your mom." Spike looked away, but weather he was embarrassed or upset, she couldn't tell. "But... if you like, I can be your Aunty."

Spike looked up hopefully, "Aun'y Fred?" He tested the word, "Yeah ok, Aun'y Fred."

Fred ruffled his blond hair with the towel again, "But if I'm going to be your Aunt, you gotta promise me something."

"What?"

"You won't gel you're hair."

Spike looked up in confusion, "Why would I put Jelly in my hair?" he asked. "Jelly is for eating!"

"You are so right." Fred laughed, "What was I thinking?"

Angel, who had been watching silently from the doorway, cleared his throat. Fred looked up, "Oh hey, we were just finishing up in here."

"Aun'y Fred got me clean and dry!" Spike announced.

Angel nodded curtly, "Good, get dressed." He tossed the pj's at Spike, "Fred has to leave now. You'll stay with me tonight."

Spike looked hurt and confused. The spiky haired man, Angel, was angry again, and now his new friend Aun'y Fred was leaving. He felt Fred's arms encircle him. She gave him a comforting squeeze. "C'mon, let's see if these clothes fit."

* * *

After some fumbling with the lock, and a good shove at the sticky door frame, Fred opened the door to her apartment, to find it comfortingly lived in. Clothes, books and knickknacks covered the living room and the rooms beyond, despite Fred's best attempts at order. There was also the occasional trace of someone other than Fred inhabiting the house. Wesley's manuscripts and the occasional item of clothing where also clearly evident amongst the clutter. There was a small plain table in the back room, near the kitchenette. Everything in the apartment looked a little thin but not bare and there was so much clutter the thin furniture went mostly unnoticed. The TV was on, casting a white florescent light across the apartment, and slouched morosely in front of the set was Wes.

"What are you watching?" Fred asked.

Wes kept his eyes focused on the TV as he waved her a one handed greeting, "I'm not, there's nothing on."

"There never is," Fred laughed, kissing his hair on her way to the kitchen.

"What can I say, I'm an optimist," Wes said. He turned off the TV and followed her into the kitchen.

She pulled out two blue desert bowls, and filled them with several large scoops of peppermint choc-chip ice cream. Before she passed Wesley's bowl over, she took a bite for herself, then took her own bowl. Wesley smiled, even when she had her own, she wanted more. "So," Fred said, taking another scoop of ice-cream, "I, uh, thought you might have gone home, to your house."

Wes gave her a sneaky smile, "Do you want me to go home?" He said, leaning over the bench towards her.

Fred smiled back, "No."

"Then what's the problem?" he asked.

"There is none," She replied, leaning over to him. The where nose to nose when Fred suddenly pulled away, "Aren't we going to eat our ice cream?"

"Always thinking about food." Wes muttered. He obligingly took the two bowls over to the couch and turned the TV back on. Fred sighed and snuggled into his outstretched arm, tucking her feet beneath her. She felt comfort and exhaustion sneak over her like a blanket, until she could hardly think of anything but falling asleep. Her previous worries completely evaporated. Nothing mattered anymore, just as long as they were here on the couch. Nothing mattered at all.

"What happened with Spike?" Wes ventured after a while.

"Oh," Fred yawned, remembering that there was something that mattered after all, "hmmm, Angel's looking after him. Protective type, Angel."

Wes smiled, "Yes I know. But he's never been that close to Spike, rather the opposite really. Are you sure he's ok with this?"

Fred shrugged, "I offered, but he was adamant. He wanted to look after Spike. I spose he can cope."

* * *

"Spike!" Angel groaned. There was silence. He listened a moment longer. There was the sound of shuffling blankets and feet thumping against pillows. Someone was fidgeting around in the next room. "Spike!" Angel called again.

"Sorry..." Came the faint call from the other room.

"Can you go to sleep please?" There was no reply. Perhaps Spike had finally gone to sleep. After a long moment, the shuffling started again, this time accompanied by little squeaks and groans. Spike was making it plain as possible he was uncomfortable. Angel tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. Throwing the covers off irritably, he stormed into the lounge room.

Spike was lying still and quiet now on the sofa, wrapped in a dark brown duna. Though the couch was modern and square and hardly lent itself to sleeping, it wasn't overly uncomfortable surely. There wasn't any reason for Spike to make such a fuss. "Alright Spike," Angel sighed, "What do you want?"

Spike turned slowly over, feigning tiredness, "A glass of water." He croaked.

Angel grumbled, and got Spike a glass of water. He held it out to Spike, who took it and sipped with half closed eyes. "Now will you sleep?" Spike nodded feebly, and Angel slunk back towards his room. He paused at the door and waited. Minuets passed and there was no sound. Then, a faint mewing, and the fidgeting started again. Angel groaned and stormed back into the lounge room. "What is it?" He demanded, "What do you want? What's wrong?" Spike mumbled something quietly into his blanket. "What?" Angel asked, more calmly this time.

"I... this bed is uncomfortable... can... can I sleep with you?"

Angel sighed heavily, considering. "C'mon then," He said, turning to go back to his room. There was a flurry of blond hair and little feet, as Spike raced past into Angel's room, throwing himself onto the bed and under the covers. Angel slipped in the other side of the bed. He turned the light off, and shrugged the covers over himself. "Alright, now go to sleep." He closed his eyes. Spike shuffled next to him. Wiggling and fidgeting, flipping and kicking. Angel was about to yell at him, when he felt Spike's tiny body fall into his side. Spike snuggled up into him, curling his little arms around Angel's big one, and finally, stopped moving. Angel sighed and hesitantly relaxed. Soon, both vampires were asleep.


	4. Adventures and Actions

**Chapter 4  
Adventures and Actions**

A/N: Sorry this took longer than usual. School has started again, so I'm really busy. I'm kind of using my 8 year old cousin Lewis as a muse, since it's a (little) while since I was a kid. I'm not sure if this is a good thing, because Lewis is quite annoying (if cute) and very talkative (despite this awful stuttering speech impediment, that the rest of the family is completely in denial about) so there'll be a few Pokemon references later on. Spike will have no speech impediments if I can help it, but this chapter, he might just get a friend!

* * *

Wolfram & Heart was the centre of operations for thousands of legal, illegal, and demonic operations. Every day, millions of people were cursed, scarified, or in someway dismembered by the representatives of the evil law firm. They had more power than any organisation in the whole of L.A. Perhaps more than any in the world. Spike thought it was a very boring place to be.

He sat quietly by the window, hugging his knees, looking at his surroundings. He was in Angel's office, a place as new and square as Angel's apartment. There was nothing fun in it, just wooden furniture, black leather, book shelves, and big greyish windows. There were no toys, no interesting places to explore, no TV. There wasn't even any cushions to sit on. Spike was sitting on the floor. Angel was at the desk with that Wesley, looking in big old books. They had been doing that for a long time.

Spike could hear someone talking. Not Angel or Wesley, they were both silent, Angel didn't even breathe. These voices were quiet, or muffled, somewhere far away. Spike felt like he should hear what they had to say, there was something they needed to tell him, but they were so quiet. "Talk louder," He whispered. The voices remained quiet. He strained his ears to listen, but it was no good. The voices fell silent. Spike listened a moment longer, but there was nothing. He was soon bored again.

He sniffed the air, smelling something familiar. It was Fred. He could smell Aun'y Fred. He got down on his hands and knees, sniffing following the sent, just like a wolf. He was a wolf, following the scent. Out in the wild, with the wild dogs. He sniffed the carpet crawling across the office as the Fred smell got stronger. He growled and sniffed, enjoying his new game. Sniff sniff. Fred over towards the bookcase. Sniff sniff. Fred over near the desk. He sniffed around Angel's chair, crawling under his feet. Angel looked down curiously at him, but before he could comment on Spike's odd behaviour Wesley spoke. "Angel, I think I've found something." Spike continued to follow the Fred scent around the desk.

* * *

"Have you found a way to reverse it?" Angel said, "Tell me you've got a cure."

"Not quite, but I have found a reference to the power," Wes said. "It seems the ability to reverse age has been around for aeons, but it's a very carefully guarded power. Only one in every hundred kin of the Sora Demons ever posses the Compleat power. Yes, uh, _Sora demons have the ability to slow the ageing process_," he read "_and almost stop it, but few posses the power to completely reverse it. The complete power is only born into those of purist blood. These demons guard their power, as many mortals would readily abuse it._"

"Are you sure that's what happened to Spike?" Angel asked.

"I can't find any other reference to a demon possessing the power to reverse age in this way." Wes said, flipping through the book. He looked down, to find Spike sniffing around his chair. Spike sniffed his way over to Wesley, and stopped.

"You smell like Aun'y Fred." He said.

Wes shuffled uncomfortably. "I dare say I do."

"Why?" asked Spike suspiciously.

"Because I spend time with her." Wesley replied curtly, "I'm sure you smell like her too."

Spike didn't take his suspicious gaze of Wesley, as he sniffed his wrist. "I smell like Spike, and Angel." He said "You smell like Aun'y Fred. She smells like you."

Wesley almost smiled. He smelt like Fred. "Spike, how come you're smelling me?"

"I'm a wolf. I'm following Aun'y Fred's scent." Spike replied.

"You're a wolf?" Wes narrowed his gaze and looked towards Angel, saying more quietly "Did you tell him? About his special heritage?"

Angel remained silent for a moment, "No. I haven't found the right time yet. Tell me more about this demon."

Wes nodded, happy as always to return to the endless supply of information contained in his dusty volumes "Dr Mordred is almost certainly a Sora demon, he fits the profile. I'm sure he'd even tell you, it's not something he needs to hide." He paused, "This is interesting. The demon controls age by injecting its own blood into the victim's blood stream. Which also acts as a sedative. The power actually flows in the blood. It can be used like a potion almost."

"Dr Mordred said something about Spike working through his emotional trauma." Angel prompted.

"It seems it's a new procedure Dr Mordred is testing. Perhaps it was a punishment in Spike's case." Wes said, "But it is within his power. One with the power to reverse age may control it at will, allowing a person to be young for but a day, stay young forever, or reverse completely into non existence. They can also tamper with the ageing process, or place conditions upon a subject, forcing their internal growth measurement to remain at one age, until another condition has come to fruition. In short, they can set the subjects own biological clock to one age, and have it drastically change once the subject meets the demon's enforced conditions."

"In Spike's case, these conditions would be the emotional issues the doctor mentioned?" Asked Angel.

Wes nodded, "Precisely. Once Spike meets these conditions, works through his problems, he will grow up. We need to see Dr Mordred again."

Angel looked around. "Where did Spike go?" they both gazed around the office, but Spike was gone.

* * *

Spike quickly lost interest as Wesley and Angel began to talk about the boring books again. His Aun'y Fred tracking game had been fun, but it had only lead to Wesley, who hadn't given him a proper answer about why he smelled like Aun'y Fred. Spike needed a new game, but there was nothing to do. Then he heard the voices again.

They were louder this time, he could here the words. They were talking voices. A little girl

_"Dad,"_ she said, _"I'm frightened. It's dark out."  
_  
_"I know, we'll be home soon"_ a man replied.

_"I wouldn't be so sure."_ A British man replied. This voice was very familiar to Spike, though he couldn't say why. _"It's dangerous out at night. Never know what might happen. Bad people hang about after dark. Bad people, like me."  
_  
Spike heard the little girl scream. He stumbled, realising, he had walked right out of Angel's office, following the voices. He knew he should go back, but the voices kept going, so Spike kept following.

_"Who are you? We have no money leave us alone."_ The father said.

The other man laughed _"I don't want money. I'm not a robber. I put in a honest days work. Now, I'm not gonna rob you, or hurt you, I just want your blood."  
_  
_"Please don't... just spare my daughter, take me."_ The father said.

_"But she's the one I want."_ The familiar voice crooned, _"She's so pretty and young, all innocent."_ He paused, _"Too good for me really. Alright, I will take you."_ The voice said. There was a scream from the girl and the sound of a muffled groan. Spike's stomach churned uncomfortably. The men didn't speak for a long while, but Spike could hear noises, scary noises, and the heavy frightened breathing of the girl. _"Now"_ The familiar man said after a while _"I'll spare you, like you're father wished."_ He said, _"I'll even take you home to meet my girl, Dru. She'll love a young innocent little thing like you. And you won't be able to resist her."  
_  
Spike stumbled down the halls, not aware of where he was going, only aware of the ghastly voices. He could hear her screaming. Screaming and screaming, she didn't stop. Spike started to cry. His whole chest was on fire. No one else noticed the voices, nor did they notice the boy staggering along the halls. They were all around him now, the voices, and pictures too. Spike could see her, this poor girl, being dragged along a dank street by a dark figure. The girl sobbed and kicked out towards her captor. The man stopped, and threw her to the ground. _"Don't make this hard for me."_ He hissed. The girl tried to stand, but the man kicked her hard on the chin. Spike heard her neck snap back, and he screamed.

"What's wrong?" a voice asked. Spike looked up, to see a young girl with grey- black wavy hair staring worriedly at him.

* * *

Angel charged through the doors of his office into the foyer beyond. "He can't have got very far," Wesley assured him.

"He's gone." Angel cried, as he looked around at the oblivious adults. No where in sight was the small blond vampire. "He's gone, he's gone!" Angel cried again, spinning around looking for Spike.

"Angel keep calm," Wes advised, "He's safe. We'll just alert security and-" Angel wasn't listening, he was already striding off down the hall away from his office. Wes caught hold of Harmony's arm as she passed him, "Harmony, Spike's gone for a walk, and we'd like him back. Put someone on that right away would you?" Harmony nodded, as Wes hurried off after Angel.

"Spike? Spike!?" Angel called, as he stormed down the corridor in search of the child, "Spike, come back here right now!" Angel felt the panic rising. He knew he had to stay calm, but it was impossible. Spike could be anywhere, there where thousands of rooms he could be in. Wolfram and Hart was full of dangers: demons, portals and lawyers to say the least. He cursed himself for taking his eyes of the boy for even a second. If anything happened... "Spike!" He called.

"Angel," Wes said catching up to the vampire, "Calm down, I've got Harmony to put out a memo that Spike is missing. The security cameras are probably picking him up right now, there's no need to worry."

"No need to worry?!" Angel asked through gritted teeth, "Spike is missing in an evil law firm Wes. Who knows how many demons are walking around here, looking for victims right now! And Spike's not even four feet tall. I think this is a good time to worry."

"Alright, I understand you're worried," Wesley said calmly "but we'll find Spike much faster if we have some sort of plan. Where would Spike go?"

"He was talking about Fred, tracking her scent. Perhaps he's gone down to the labs." Angel suggested.

"Ok, I'll go check, and if he's not there, I can enlist Fred's help." Wesley said.

"I'm going to find that nut case doctor," Angel said, "This is all his fault! If anything happens to Spike I'll-"

Wesley's phone rang and he held a hand up telling Angel to wait while he answered it, "Yes? Ah, Harmony. Good." He closed his phone and turned back to Angel, "Spike's been spotted, he's one floor down in the Containment Department."

"Containment?" Angel asked worriedly. The Containment Department was where Wolfram and Hart kept its dangerous clients and cargo before other arrangements could be made for them. Werewolves, griffins and flesh eating goblins were just some of the things Angel had seen in there. "Spike's in containment?" Angel muttered, frightening images flooding his head. Angel set off at a run towards the stairs. He thrust open the door and flew down the first flight, almost knocking over a woman carrying a stack of files as he did. He charged into the Containment Department, not even stoping to show his ID to the desk clerk. He searched frantically along the corridor, looking into the glass cells at the many frightful beasts held there. "Spike? Spike!?" He called. He rounded the corner, and saw Spike, flat on his back in the containment cell at the end of the row.

There was a little girl in a pale white sundress leaning over him. Angel couldn't see her face, because she was pressed against Spike's chest, her hair spilling over him and obscuring her features. Angel didn't know what she was doing, but it could be anything, she could be eating his heart, sucking out his life, devouring his flesh. Angel roared with rage, and charged toward the door, flinging it open with a crash. The girl jumped backwards with a squeak. Spike sat up.

"Angel!" He cried, hopping to his feet and running to hug the older vampire. "I heard people talking, and someone who sounded familiar, but I don't know who, and so I followed them, but then bad things happened. And the little girl was screaming, and then I was here, and this girl was asking if I was ok. So I said I didn't know, and she said she knew how to be a doctor, and she would check for me. And she checked my forehead and I didn't have a fever, so she was checking my heart, and then you came and I'm so glad to see you!" He said, never stopping to breathe once, not that he would need to.

"I mustn't be a very good doctor," The girl said, "I couldn't find your heart Spike."

Angel looked from one child to another, his head still spinning from his earlier panic. He patted Spike's hair idly as he regained his calm. Spike was ok, he was found, he was safe. He had run off, and he would be told off later, but for now, he was ok. What ever that girl had been trying to do, she hadn't succeeded. "Spike," He said, suddenly pushing the boy away from him and regaining his cold troubled face again, "We're leaving. Now. Never run away again." He swept out of the room, dragging Spike with him.

"But Angel!" Spike wailed, as he stumbled down the corridor, "I was making a friend! Why are you mad again?"

"I'm always mad." Angel said simply, "And don't make friends with anyone. Everyone here is dangerous."

Spike looked back at the dark haired girl. She had a hand pressed up against the glass cell wall, her dark grey eyes full of hurt and confusion. She didn't look dangerous at all, she looked nice and like she could use a friend as much as Spike could. Spike waved to her as Angel pulled him around the corner, and she waved back hopefully back. Angel was angry again, and Spike was sure it was his fault. Still, he had liked that girl. "Are you dangerous Angel?" Spike asked.

Angel didn't look at Spike as he answered bitterly, "Terribly dangerous."


	5. Expressions of Anger

A/N: Well, I'm finally posting some more, sorry it's been so long. It's peak assessment time at school, and I'm swamped in evil science work! Plus, this turned out to be a long chappie. So long, I cut it in two! I'll post the second bit later. In this chappie; some pointless cuteness from my favourite sweethearts, Fred and Wesley! Plus, a token appearance by Gunn, and some fun with Spike! (No nice Angel yet, but soon I promise)

A special thank you to _Higgy_, who not only reviews each chapter wonderfully, but set the challenge and inspiration for this fic in the first place. Read her now sadly finished fic "Not So Big Bad" Or _Mimifoxlove_'s answer to the challenge "Baby Boy" if you have time...

* * *

"_Why are you here today_" Jerry Springer's voice belted out of the television.

"_Well, Jerry_." The large blond woman screeched, "_I been with mah man for near two years, but I'm here to tell 'im, I been getting' some on the side. With his mother_." The crowed booed and hissed.

Watching from the safe distance of the sofa, Fred gasped, "Oh my God! With her boyfriends mother?!?"

"_Well, your boyfriend's here too_," Jerry said over the audience's outrage, "_and he's got a confession of his own. Come on out Dameon._"

A thin man, dressed in black leather and with many piercing covering his face walked onto the stage and took a seat near the woman. "_Sweet heart_," he began, "_I've been working at a transvestite bar."_ The woman gasped, "_I work with your best friend Gina. And we're having an affair. Have been for six months_."

Fred watched in fascination, "And I thought my life was complicated." She laughed.

The woman jumped to her feet, screaming insults at her boyfriend, who in turn flipped his chair over and started yelling profanities.

"_With my mother?! You skank_!"

"_Transvestite bar?! You? such a F up_!"

_"-drove me to it. And to your best friend. If you could put out_-"

"-_least yo mama can satisfy!_"

"_Jerry, Jerry, Jerry_!"

The phone rang. Fred peeled herself away from the unfolding drama, and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she squeaked.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Wesley asked from the other end.

"No, no," Fred said, allowing a smile to creep into her voice. "I was watching TV"

"Nothing too strenuous I hope," Wes said, "You should be resting."

"Trust me, this is not a strenuous show." She laughed

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Icky." Fred admitted, "I feel like my brain is a big spiney puffer fish, and my skull is made of stale bread. And my spiney puffer fish brain is stabbing into my bready skull and it hurts." She whined. "My nose is all itchy, and even my ears feel full of goop, there's a family of used tissues moving in under the couch and my eyes are so sore I'm seeing red. And not in that nice rose-coloured glasses way."

Wes laughed warmly, "That's all?"

Fred stuck out her bottom lip, "My throat hurts too."

"Want me to come home and kiss it better?" Wes offered.

"Kiss my throat better," Fred smiled, "that's an idea."

"I could kiss your mouth too." He said, his voice low and warm like honey.

"Kiss my mouth? But that doesn't hurt." Fred giggled.

"I could kiss it anyway." He said.

Fred laughed breaking the seductive spell, "No, I'm alright. My mouth and throat will go without kisses. For now."

"Well alright," Wes said, "I've got some stuff to finish here, but then I'll come home. Should I bring anything? Tissues, soup, cough medicine?"

"Honey?" Fred asked.

"Honey, what for?" He asked.

"I... I like to eat it. It's sweet." On the other end Wesley laughed. "What!?" Fred said, "I can eat what I like when I'm sick."

"Alright, I'll bring home some honey." Wes said. "I'll be home as soon as I'm done here."

"What are you doing?" Fred asked.

"I'm going to see Dr Mordred," He said, "Angel's still fretting about turning Spike back. I'm going to get some answers from the good doctor."

"Be nice," Fred said worriedly.

"I'm always nice." Wes said. "I'll see you later. Call if you need anything."

"Uh-huh, love you." Fred said.

"I love you too," Wes said, before disconnecting.

Fred turned her attention back to the brawl on television. "Oh my gawd! Is that the mother?!" She gasped, "She's such a skank! And lookit her hair. I wouldn't sleep with that. Nuh-uh."

* * *

"I'm not a man to beat around the bush." Wesley said, taking a seat in Dr Mordred's office, "I've come about Spike, and I'm going to get answers one way or another."

"Your reputation precedes you, however there is no need to threaten me Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. I'll answer your questions." The doctor replied.

Wes leaned back in his chair. "I assume you are a Sora Demon, Doctor Mordred," He said.

"I make no secret of the fact." Dr Mordred said.

"Then I'd be right in assuming you are using your powers to control Spike's age?" Wesley asked.

The Doctor smiled, "Well done, you solved the mystery."

Wesley smiled distastefully, "There's no need to be hostile."

The doctor smiled back, "You started it," He muttered smoothly.

"How do we turn Spike back?" Wes asked, "And no more cryptic answers."

"Spike has issues," Dr Mordred said, "Even before he opened his mouth I could tell. He has immaturity written all over him."

"That much is obvious" Wesley agreed.

"I thought I'd give him a chance to be a real child." The doctor said, allowing himself a sinister smile.

"Though the ethics of such actions are questionable, I'm more concerned with turning him back." Wes reminded the doctor.

"He needs the love of his father." Dr Mordred said.

"I'm sorry," Wes said, "He needs the love of his father?"

The Doctor lent back into his chair, "Spike seemed to have a lot of issues surrounding his father; feelings of betrayal and abandonment. As a child his father left him. He seems to have become overly attached to his mother, and resenting of his father. This has damaged him. Now as a child once more, he will seek out his fathers love. Children need love, they live off it. A child who is not loved will become sick, and perhaps never recover."

Wes stiffened, trying not to show how unsettled he was by the doctor's last words, "Be that as it may..." He muttered. The doctor's eyes flashed, and Wesley was reminded of his previous words "_your reputation precedes you_." His own father had been less than loving. Perhaps the doctor was right, Wesley could never recover from what his father had done to him. He preferred not think about the matter at all.

"Once Spike has his fathers love, and his father acknowledges it, he will grow up." Said Dr Mordred.

Wes furrowed his brow, "Dr Mordred, Spike's father lived a hundred years ago. He is now certainly dead."

The Doctor shrugged, "Spike has issues with someone. Perhaps not his physical father, but a father figure." The doctor continued to ask Wesley's questions, but his answers become less and less helpful, as the doctor became more guarded. Wesley left tersly with the information he had already gained and a promise to the doctor he would return for more answers later.

Musing in the elevator on his way to his office, Wesley considered the doctors words. "Not his physical father... I wonder if...Angel?"

* * *

Gunn sauntered into Angel's office to find the vampire poring over a contract as usual and his small blond charge curled up on the couch. "Spike my man," He said extending a hand, "How you doing brother?" Spike lifted his head from his knees to reveal a red runny nose, bleary red eyes and a morose pouting lip. "Whoa, I'm going with not so good." Gunn said. Spike buried his head back in his knees.

"Gunn, come in," Angel said.

"Already here," Gun replied, "What's up with tyke-Spike? I thought vampires couldn't get sick."

Angel shook his head, "Normally no. But this ones seven years old, was recently a ghost and has a soul. Spike's not normal."

Gunn nodded, "Don't have to tell me twice. Just look at his hair. No one gets that colour without chemicals."

Angel sighed, "I don't know what's wrong with him, he's been like this all morning."

Gunn raised an eyebrow at the little vampire, "Maybe he should see a doctor."

"Because the doctors here have been so helpful before." Angel muttered.

"Well, I dunno if it's the same for miniature vampires, but us humans usually prescribe bed rest and hot drinks to get rid a colds. Why don't you take him home?" Gunn suggested, "Give him an extra blanket and a bowl of warm blood. He'll be better tomorrow."

"I have work to do," Angel growled, "I can't just drop everything because he's sick."

Gunn shrugged, "That's what parents are supposed to do."

Angel froze, "I am not Spike's parent." He said, "I'm looking after him while he's under a spell. That makes me a responsible adult, not a father."

"You get his meals, wash behind his ears, help him tie his shoes and tuck him in at night. Sounds like a father to me." Gunn said.

Spike had been listening to the adults talking. His screwed up his eyes, and shuffled his head further under his arms. He didn't want to hear anymore. Talk about Angel and fathers. He didn't want to listen. It was making his tummy feel bad. His eyes started to sting.

"It's complicated Gunn," Angel said.

"You wanted this." Gunn reminded him. "Any one of us would have looked after him, Fred was itching to, but you said it was your job, you were gonna care for him. What's the deal Angel?"

"I thought for a moment," Angel muttered, turning away from Gunn to stare out the window. "Spike could be my son. But he can't...He's still Spike. I can't… get attached... like that. I might start thinking... of him again...that hurts too much."

Gunn furrowed his brow, "See what you said then was like half a conversation. And as I couldn't hear the other half, that little spiel didn't make a whole lotta sense."

Angel looked away from the window and back at his friend. It would be so easy to tell him. So much easier than this. The burden would be lifted, a little at least. Gunn could know...

"Where's Aun'y Fred? I wanna see her." Spike mumbled.

"She's sick," Angel said, turning back to Spike. "You can't see her today."

"Then I wanna see that girl. The one I met in the white cage." Spike said "The one you took me away from."

"No Spike," Angel said, "I told you before you can't see her."

Spike stuck out his bottom lip, "What can I do?" he asked.

"Sit there and be quiet." Angel replied.

"That's no fun." Spike said.

"C'mon Angel," Gunn said, "I know your childhood was a long time ago, but you can't be so old that "sitting in silence" actually sounds fun."

Angel considered this, "Well, if you want to do something Spike," he said, "You can read a book."

"Can't read." Spike mumbled.

"Well maybe you should learn." Angel retorted.

Gunn laughed, "Woah, who's the child here?"

Spike jumped to his feet, his tiny sneakers pushing down into the leather cushion, "You're no fun!" He yelled.

"I'm an adult," Angel yelled back, "I'm not supposed to be fun!"

"Well I'm a kid!" Spike yelled, "And I wanna see Aun'y Fred and make friends with that girl!"

"I'm the boss!" Angel yelled, "And I say no!"

Spike's eyes filled with tears, "I wanna have fun!" He wailed, tears spilling from his eyes.

"Have fun sitting here!" Angel said, almost pleadingly this time.

Spike sobbed and hiccuped, "I...wanna...have...fun...but...you...never...LET ME!" He screamed.

Gunn looked worried; Angel was distraught, "You've been so good so far Spike. Lets just calm down." He said.

"I...will...not...calm...DOWN!!!" He screamed, tears streaming down his chin onto his Bob-the-Builder shirt.

"What's wrong with him?" Angel asked Gunn, "He was ok a minute ago."

"Vampire mood swings?" Gunn suggested, "Maybe it's that time of the month."

Angel furrowed his brow, "Real helpful."

Spike was bawling at the top of his lungs, "NO, NO, NO!!" he screamed. He threw himself at the floor, diving headfirst into the carpet.

"Spike!" Angle and Gunn cried together, lunging towards the little vampire.

Spike snarled suddenly as he jumped to his feet. Gunn and Angel jumped back in alarm. Spike's forehead was protruding over acid yellow eyes, his teeth- impossibly long- stabbing over his bottom lip. What had moments before been the face of a child, was now the face of a monster "Uh-oh." Gunn muttered.

Spike roared as he lunged towards Angel, "It's not fair!" He yelled, sinking his teeth into Angel's calf.


	6. Speaking of Vampires

A/N: Yay! Angel's big turning point! For those of you who have said that Angel should be nicer to Spike, it's finally here. I put it off, because, as we now know, Spike's issue is fatherly love. Nothing is ever easy in my world = ) So the road to Angel loving Spike will not involve kittens and puppies (If you want that, read Higgy's fic "not so big bad"). I think Angel would have quite a few father/son issues, because of his past experiences at parenthood. Plus, Angel and Spike never really saw eye to eye, so there's added issues there = ) But we are in for fun and hugs today. Plus I'm going back to clean up the formatting on my past chappies. Bloody likes to take all my pretty formatting away =[  
  
Disclaimer: Hmm, I probably should have done one of these ages ago. Yo dude, obviously not mine. Surfs up amigos.  
  
**Chapter 6  
Speaking of Vampires**  
  
"I bought your honey" Wes said, putting his groceries down on the kitchen bench.  
  
Fred shuffled over to him, wrapped in her doona cover for warmth, "Mmm thanks," she said, kissing his cheek.  
  
"You sure you don't want toast with it?" He asked.  
  
"Nope." She pulled of the honey lid and hopped in her blanket over to the cutlery draw. "So, did Dr Evil bend to your will? Did he answer your questions? Or did you have to beat it out of him?"  
  
Wes smiled as Fred started the long shuffle back to the lounge room "I got some answers."  
  
"Oh good." She said, shuffling painfully slowly across the kitchen. "Wait, you didn't actually beat him, did you?"  
  
Wes scooped Fred up and carried her to the lounge room. "No, I didn't beat him or anything. I just gave him my withering glare and he caved in."  
  
Fred giggled as he sat down on the couch with her on top of him, "I could see that. Your withering glare is very intimidating."  
  
"This one?" Wes said, glaring at her.  
  
Fred put a hand dramatically on her chest and sucked in a breath, "I'm very intimidated." He relaxed and kissed her forehead. "So, you glared and what did the doctor say?"  
  
"He said he key to restoring Spike to his original age is the love of his father." Wes said carefully.  
  
"What?!" Fred cried.  
  
Wes shrugged, "That's what he said. Spike has to obtain his fathers love to grow up."  
  
"But Spike's fathers dead right?" She asked. "Or really, really, really old."  
  
"I told the doctor as much. He said 'Spike has a father here he has issues with'" Wes paused, "I think that might be Angel."  
  
Understanding dawned on Fred face, "Oh my gosh, you're probably right. Angel trained him to be a vampire right? Like a father?"  
  
Wesley nodded, "I don't know weather we should tell Angel." He said in measured tones.  
  
"We have to." Fred said.  
  
"Think about it though. Angel has to give his love to Spike, if he knows that's what he has to do, will he be able to? Won't he just force himself?"  
  
"But Angel hasn't been great with Spike so far." Fred mused, "Maybe he needs some encouragement."  
  
"Maybe you're right." Wesley said.  
  
Fred shook her head. "No, you are. If Angel knew, he'd try and force himself to love Spike, and you can't force a thing like that. He needs to mean it." Wes gave her a little squeeze. "What was that for?" she asked.  
  
"For being wonderful." He said.  
  
"As always." She took another spoonful of honey and shovelled it into her mouth.  
  
"Isn't that disgustingly sweet?" Wes asked. asked.  
  
"Mmhmm," Fred said, "Just the way I like it."  
  
Wes kissed her cheek affectionately. "Whatever pleases you."  
  
Fred smiled and took another spoonful of honey. "Do you want some?" She asked, holding the spoon out to him.  
  
"Not really," He mumbled.  
  
Fred waved the spoon at him, until a large glob of honey fell off onto his shirt. "Oops..." She giggled.  
  
Wes frowned. "I was going to wear this shirt again tomorrow." He said.  
  
Fred smiled, "You've got nicer shirts." She said hopefully.  
  
"That's true. You're forgiven." He said.  
  
Fred furrowed her brow, "Speaking of other shirts. Don't you ever go to your apartment anymore?"  
  
Wes laughed, "What does that have to do with other shirts?"  
  
"That's where your shirts live. I supposed you went there to get other clean shirts." Fred said, "Don't you need more clean shirts?"  
  
"I have shirts here. And only one has honey on it. Most are clean." He said.  
  
"What about your fish." Fred said, "Don't you need to feed your fish?"  
  
"I don't have fish." He said.  
  
"Oh." Fred said, "do you want fish?!" She asked sharply.  
  
"No," Wes laughed, "Do you?"  
  
Fred thought about it, "No, I s'pose I don't."  
  
"What was that about?" He asked, confused.  
  
"Fish." Fred replied, "But now we have that sorted." She snuggled closer to him, licking the last of her honey of her spoon. "Wesley," She drawled after a while.  
  
"Yes love?"  
  
"My throat hurts." She whined "Kiss it better?"  
  
Wes laughed, and leaned into her neck, kissing her softly, "with pleasure." He crooned.

* * *

Spike looked down at his hands folded carefully in his lap. He tried not to move. He sat perfectly still on Angel's couch. If he sat really really still, and did nothing else bad, maybe everyone would just forget about it, about him. "Sorry." He mumbled guilt and dread bubbling up in his stomach again.  
  
"It's alright." Angel called from the kitchen.  
  
Spike listened to Angel pull things out of cupboards, and open draws. He tried hard not to cry again. "I really am sorry." He whispered, tears in his voice.  
  
"I know you are." Angel said somewhat tiredly, "And it really is alright."  
  
Spike's hands trembled, he tried to hold one hand still with the other, but they were both shaking too badly. Spike felt a tear drip down his cheek, and reached up to wipe it away. As he did, his hand brushed against his mouth. Trembling, he ran his fingers over his eye teeth. He shivered and pulled his hand away. They were normal sized. What had happened? He wasn't sure. He had been mad, and crying, and he had jumped off the couch. He was so angry. And he had lunged at Angel. And then he had bitten him. Hard. So hard he drew blood. Gunn and Angel had pried him off... "I'm s-s-sorry!" Spike wailed.  
  
Angel walked calmly into the lounge room, "Shh, it's ok Spike," He said, kneeling down beside the couch, "I promise, its ok." Spike continued to wail and hiccup, shaking his head, "Spike, I..." Angel didn't know what to do. Acting on instinct, he reached out and put his arms around Spike, feeling the little vampire lean his miniscule weight against Angel's chest. "Shhh, it's alright. No need to cry. It's all alright."  
  
Spike cried into Angel's shoulder until his shirt was wet with tears. After Spike had calmed down, Angel pulled him off, and looked him in the eyes. "Now, are you crying because I'm hurt?" He asked. Spike nodded. "Well I'm fine." Angel said, he awkwardly held up his leg and pulled up his slacks to reveal barely a scratch from the earlier bite. "Ok?" Spike nodded. "Now" He said gently, "Why...why else are you crying?"  
  
Spike looked down at his lap, "I...when I...it felt like...I was different." He said, reaching a hand towards his mouth, but quickly pulling away with a squeak.  
  
"You, you changed." Angel said, "Your teeth grew longer right?" Spike nodded. "And inside too, it felt like you were an animal. And you felt powerful."  
  
"Y-Yes" Spike cried, throwing his arms around Angel's neck and letting his tears fall again.  
  
Angel pulled Spike off him and sighed. "Spike, there's something I have to explain." He said. Where do you begin telling a little boy he's a vampire? Angel thought. "Do you know about fairytales? And magical creatures?" He asked, choosing his words carefully. Spike nodded, "Well, do you know about Vampires?"  
  
"They only come out at night, and they come out to drink peoples blood" Spike said, "And they can turn into bats." He added.  
  
Angel furrowed his brow, "Well yeah, except for the part about the bats." He said. "Well, Spike...you're not like other children. You're special." He paused "You're a vampire Spike."  
  
Spike pulled away from Angel, screwing up his face in anguish, "No?" He squeaked, "No, no, no." He shook his head as sobs racked his tiny frame. "You're lying! Stop it! No! Don't lie!"  
  
Angel held onto Spike's wrist, "Spike, this isn't a lie. You are a vampire."  
  
Spike shook his head violently, "No! I'm not, I'm not! I don't wanna be a monster."  
  
"You're not a monster." He assured Spike, "You aren't. There are bad vampires. Lots of them, but you aren't one of them. You have a soul. You're good." He said, "like...me."  
  
Spike stopped crying and looked at Angel. "You're a vampire?" he hiccuped.  
  
Angel nodded. Spike looked at him in hopeful disbelief. To prove his point, Angel morphed into his game face, causing Spike to gasp. "This doesn't mean I'm bad. I do good things, because I'm a good vampire. And I know you are too." Spike reached a tentative hand towards Angel's demon forehead. He brushed his fingers along the imposing bump, and as he did, Angel morphed back.  
  
"Well, ok." Spike said. Angel was a vampire too. They were good vampires, the both of them.  
  
"There are rules," Angel said hurriedly, "You can't go out in sunlight, you can't touch crosses or holy water. You can't eat garlic bread." Spike looked a little disappointed. "But you get to be super strong."  
  
Spike grinned, "I didn't like the sun much anyway."  
  
Angel smiled at Spike. He couldn't imagine how scared Spike must be of himself. Pride swelled in Angel's silent chest. "You mustn't tell anyone ok? Gunn, Lorne, Wes, and Aun'y Fred are the only ones who know ok?" He said.  
  
Spike nodded. "Do we um, drink blood?" he asked.  
  
"Well, pigs' blood yeah." Angel said nervously. "Would you like me to show you?" Spike nodded, and Angel hurried to the kitchen to fetch a glass of blood. He handed the glass to Spike, who took it with trembling hands.  
  
Spike regarded the red liquid in his glass, watching it swirl ominously. He closed his eyes slightly, and lifted it towards his lips. The blood slithered towards his mouth, and spilt across his shirt as Spike thrust his arm outwards away from him. "It's...it looks icky." He said.  
  
"It looks icky, but it's ok to drink." Angel assured him. Spike looked down at the blood, making a disgusted face. "I promise, look." Angel took the glass from Spike, and took a long sip. He swallowed his mouthful, "See, its ok."  
  
Spike held the cup with one hand, and his nose with the other. He scrunched up his eyes, opened his mouth just a little, and tipped the cup towards his mouth. He took a little sip, made a face and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "It's ok." He said.  
  
Angel grinned, knowing Spike's protest was all in his mind, but amused all the same, "You want something else?" he asked. "To wash it down?"  
  
Spike shook his head, "No, it's ok." He took a little sip, without the drama this time. Then a gulp. He finished his drink and grinned at Angel.  
  
Angel reached out a hand towards Spike, "You have a little...moustache." He laughed, wiping the blood from the child's lip. 


	7. Boys and Girls

Disclaimer: Yay, I'm gonna do these all the time now. I own only my delusions, and though these characters may frequent them, strictly speaking, they all belong to Joss and the guys at ME.  
  
A/N: This is a longy. My last chapter was actually this long, so I split it in two. But there's not enough substance in this to split it, it's just silly sweet fluff. I dunno how fluff got to be so long-ish, but it did. Oh well. As always, silly Fred and Wes fluff, plus Fred and Spike reunited for cuteness! (Spike doesn't hang out with his Aunty enough) and the return of that dark haired girl from chapter 4! Yay!  
  
Thank you as always for the reviews, I wish I had more time to write back and say thanks more often (something I will be doing once peak assessment is over at school!). I'm glad I had so many good comments regarding Fred and Wesley. I'm a big ol' fan of that ship =) I'm glad other people are enjoying my little side saga with those too. And also, thank you for the support of my less than kind and fatherly Angel. He's still got a way to go, but he's going to be better from now on.

* * *

**Chapter 7  
Boys and Girls**  
  
Spike was in heaven. All around him was clean, pure, unbroken white. The walls, the floor, the benches, all shone with brilliant ethereal light. Gold streamed from above, and bounced off the already glowing surfaces. It was perfect, unblemished, and impossibly shiny. "What's that?" Spike asked unseen companions, "Ninjas are invading heaven?!"  
  
Spike was wreaking havoc and having a balmy time in the Wolfram & Heart science labs, playing make-believe. He jumped to his feet and took up the traditional fighting stance, fists and arms pulled in front of his chest in readiness. "Don't worry sergeant, I'll get 'em!" He lunged forward, kicking the air, making appropriate fighting sound effects. He punched twice high, once low, and swung around for a back kick, disposing of one of the imaginary ninjas. "You'll never take heaven from the angels." He spat at his foes "I'm warrior-angel-Spike, and I'm here to punish you." He struck a pose and flashed his unseen opponents a steely glare. "Come and get me." He let out a piteous war cry and charged forward, punching in quick succession to down the advancing fighters.  
  
"You're pretty good at that." Fred said, looking up from the petrii dish she was examining. "You got the quick punching thing and the low kick thing going on." She smiled a lopsided smile, remembering that the little boy fighting imaginary ninjas had once been a grown up blond vampire who killed two slayers and now fought evil. Little wonder he could fight.  
  
Spike pushed his hair out of his eyes most debonair, and took a small break from assaulting imaginary foes. "Yeah, I just kinda act on instinct. I try a few hits, then a few kicks." He said offhandedly, oblivious to Fred's giggles, "Check this out though." He took a running leap and flew from one science bench onto the other, clattering onto the white table top.  
  
"Careful." Fred said absently. Her lab assistant who was working with the fume cupboard at the back looked over in apprehensive distaste, but Fred didn't notice, she thought Spike was gorgeous. She had offered to watch him for the morning while Angel looked after a new client. Spike had soon taken to cavorting around the science labs, using the various apparatus as weapons in his imaginary play. She had watched, delighted and amused by his antics, even when he had broken a microscope and destroyed the sample slide on it. She was oblivious to the potential damage of a child in the most expensive science lab in LA. All she cared was that Spike was having a good time. And he was.  
  
"Roger Captain." Spike said into his wrist, "The enemy has been neutralized, heaven is safe." He set down the tripod he had been wielding as a club, signalling an end to that particular game, and hopped off the bench. "Fred," He said, climbing onto the stool beside her and looking curiously at the petrii dish she was prodding with a needle. "Is Angel a secret agent?"  
  
Fred laughed, "Why do you think that?"  
  
Spike shrugged, "He wears suits all the time, and he has cool gizmos and he does big special deals and stuff. Plus he has a secret identity."  
  
"True. I s'pose he is kind of a secret agent." She lowered her voice, and said almost dreamily, "I used to think he was a knight, like in fairy tales, who rescued princesses and slayed dragons."  
  
Spike picked up a pipet lying on the bench and brandished it like a sword, "I could do that!" He said, lunging forward and sword fighting his foes once more. "I'd stab all the other knights good and proper, and then I'd go visit my lady, and she would faint at how brave I was." He said. She stopped fighting the shadow knights and sat down again. "I don't think that's Angel though. I think Angel is a super hero."  
  
"Yeah," Fred smiled, "He saves to world."  
  
"Well, I could be his side-kick!" Spike said excitedly. "I could help him fight baddies and put them in jail. He'd be the hero, so he'd get the girl, but that's ok, 'cause I don't really want the girl she might give me cooties or something." The words tumbled out of Spike's mouth without pause for breath, which was of corse unnecessary for the little vampire. "But the best bit would be hanging out with Angel all the time. And we could fight crime together, and have cool code names. He'd be 'Super-Angel' and I'd be 'Super-Spike.' We'd be the baddie killing team." Each time Spike said Angel's name his eyes lit up with egger excitement.  
  
"That's sounds great." Fred said, "Can I help too?"  
  
"Well," He considered. "Ok, but you can't come with me and Angel. Only we get to stop the baddies. You can stay at our secret base and test the clues we find for radio activity."  
  
"Ok!" Fred clapped her hands enthusiastically, "Can I have a super hero name too?"  
  
"You're... The Amazing Aun'y Fred." He offered. "And you can bring Wesley if you like."  
  
Fred smiled, a childish blush creeping over her cheeks as it always did. "Why would I want to bring him?" She asked, her tummy warming at the subject.  
  
"Because you're in love with him. I figured you wouldn't wanna be apart from him." Spike shrugged.  
  
Fred put a hand to her warming cheek, "What makes you think I'm in love with him?"  
  
"You smell like him." Spike stated "You always call him on your phone. When he's around you hold his hand, or tug at his clothes and pat his collar, or worse kiss him. And when you talk about him you smile, and your voice goes all high. Plus you talk about him a lot."  
  
"That's very observant." Fred blushed, wondering if it really was that obvious. Spike's description made her sound like a school girl.  
  
"He's in love with you too." Spike rattled off his evidence disregarding the privacy of his subjects. "He never smiles; accept when he talks about you. He watches you all the time until you leave the room, and then he looks at the door where you left. He makes up excuses to go to the lab and find you. And, worst of all, he has a picture of you on his desk, and I've seen him look at it all lovey dovey when no one's around."  
  
"Spike, you shouldn't just watch people like that." Fred said mortified to find her feelings and Wesley's where so obviously on display. "It's not polite. And don't tell other people how we behave." She hid her red cheeks, "It's embarrassing."  
  
"I'd be embarrassed," Spike said, "Being in love with a girl is the most embarrassing thing there is. You act all mushy and gross, and then you kiss them, which is worse, and then you have to get married and have babies all the time."  
  
Fred laughed nervously, "Looks like my secret is out. But don't tell too many people ok?" Hopefully Spike wouldn't share anymore embarrassing observations.  
  
Spike nodded enthusiastically, "It's ok, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." He suddenly blushed and looked away. He opened his mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. He clearly wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how.  
  
Fred put down her pointer and pushed her slide away, "Well, before I keep you're secret, I gotta know it."  
  
Spike beckoned Fred closer. She obliged, leaning her ear close to his mouth. "My secret is," He whispered, "I'm... a vampire!" He leapt back quickly and waited for Fred to react.  
  
"Oh, ok." She giggled.  
  
"Aun'y Fred!" He cried. "Be serious!"  
  
"I am." She said, "I think it's ok that you're a vampire."  
  
"It is?" Spike asked, still unsure. Angel had said that people didn't like vampires, so Aun'y Fred should be mad or scared. "I... I'm telling the truth." He said. "I really am a vampire. This isn't make-believe."  
  
Fred pulled him of his chair into her lap and wrapped her arms around him. "I know you are." She said, resting her chin on his shoulder, "And though it's a little scary, I'm ok with that. You're a good kid, and I know it. If you're a vampire, then I know you're a good one. No matter what you are, I love you."  
  
Spike wiggled uncomfortably, "Aun'y Fred, that's embarrassing." He giggled.  
  
Fred only held him tighter, "No, I'm sorry, it's true. I love you."  
  
He stopped wriggling and looked up at her, his bright blue eyes wide as saucers "I...I love you to."  
  
The sweet moment was spoiled by the phone ringing. Fred sighed, and lifted Spike off her lap, "I'll get it." She muttered. She skipped over to her desk, and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
Spike took up his pipet again and practiced thrusting.  
  
"Wes!" Fred squeaked into the receiver, "Uh-huh. I'm taking him back to Angel for lunch...Well, it's almost time now, so I can meet you in reception...Ok, great! I'll see you then...Uh-huh. Love you." She hung up the phone and bounced over to Spike. "That was Wes, I'm meeting him for lunch. Angel said he'd be back around now, so I'll take you up with me and you can have lunch with him 'kay?"  
  
Spike smiled his bashful little grin, "You're doing it."  
  
"Doing what?" she asked.  
  
"That happy thing you do when you talk about Wesley." He said.  
  
Fred blushed deeper than the sunset, "Come on, lunch time." She said, taking his arm and leading him out of the sparkling white lab towards the elevators.

* * *

"Oh, hey Fred!" Harmony called out as Fred and Spike stepped out of the elevator, "Hey, I have to talk to you about something major important."  
  
Fred hurried over, "What? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Duh, yes!" Said Harmony, "See, I have this date with this chaos demon tonight, and I have like nothing to wear. You've got to help me decide."  
  
Fred's shoulders slumped, slightly annoyed at Harmony's shallow problem, but mostly relieved that there wasn't some big apocalypse coming. "You're big important thing is a date?" She sighed, "Why do you want my help choosing an outfit?"  
  
"You're kinda right, it's not like your taste is great." She said, looking Fred up and down.  
  
Fred checked her knee length rose print skirt and her frilly pink blouse, "What's wrong with this?" she asked offended.  
  
"C'mon Winni, it just screams nerdy book girl." Harmony scoffed.  
  
Spike wriggled his hand out of Aun'y Fred's, and wandered a little way away. She was talking about boring things with that excitable blond woman. He sniffed his way around the reception desk. Aun'y Fred had said Angel would be here, but Spike couldn't see him, or smell him. There was something though, a familiar smell. A girl smell. Spike furrowed his brow, who could he smell?  
  
"Hey! Over here." A voice whispered from the other end of the desk. Spike scrambled hurriedly over, to discover a familiar face poking out from between the inside fern. It was the dark haired girl who had talked to him the other day when he got lost.  
  
"Hi!" Spike said.  
  
"Shh!" She hushed him, pressing a finger to her lips to indicate silence. "Be quiet, I need to check if the coast is clear." She brushed her dark hair away from her eyes and looked nervously around.  
  
"Who are you looking for?" Spike whispered, kneeling down beside the fern.  
  
"Nanny Lil. My nurse." She whispered, "She's tallish, thin. Old, but not old lady, just a grow-up. She has black hair, and she wears a white coat all the time."  
  
Spike looked around but didn't see anyone matching that description. "I don't see her. Why are you hiding?"  
  
"If Nanny Lil finds me, she'll take me back, make me stay in my room. I'm escaping see?" She got out from behind the fern, and brushed her self off. "Ok, coast is clear."  
  
With a flurry of denim overalls and black wavy hair, the girl sprinted away and hopped onto one of the lobby couches. Once there, she began to jump up and down, laughing with glee as the springs pushed her higher each time. Spike hurried over to her and watched her bouncing up and down. "What are you doing?" He asked.  
  
"Bouncing...on " She said breathlessly.  
  
"Why?" Spike asked.  
  
"It's...fun." She said, "You...try."  
  
Spike climbed onto the couch and began to jump up and down too. "Hey," He laughed, "This...is...fun."  
  
"My...name...is...Matilda" She said between jumps. "But you... can call...me Tilly." She sat down hard, causing Spike to fly twice as high as before. He landed next to her on the couch with a whump and a squeal. "It's what my friends would call me. If I had any."  
  
"Ok...I'm Spike." Spike said.  
  
"Cool." Tilly said, "You wanna play this game, commandoes?"  
  
Spike jumped of the couch eagerly, "Ok, how?"  
  
"Well, we're on a team, and we have to get out of the enemy's base, but they're all around us. So we have to be careful not to get spotted." She looked around, "Ok, there's the escape." She pointed at a door by the drink vending machine across the lobby. "Lets go." Tilly crouched low and scuttled across the floor towards a column. Spike hurriedly followed her, slipping into stealth mode.  
  
"Quick, behind you!" Spike hissed, pulling Tilly away and over behind a fern.  
  
"Few, that was close. Good call." They waited for their imaginary adversaries to pass. Tilly set her sights on the column, narrowing her gaze and gritting her teeth. "Ok, one two three, quick!" The two children jumped out of the fern and scampered towards the column, avoiding the passing lawyers.  
  
"Captain Tilly," Spike said, as they hid back to back behind the column, "I think there are ninjas coming."  
  
Tilly narrowed her eyes, "Man, I hate ninjas."  
  
"What should we do?" Spike asked.  
  
"Take 'em out lieutenant Spike. Take, 'em out." She jumped forwards and kicked the air next to the column. Spike in turn lashed out at his imaginary foes, punching in quick succession to dispose of his attackers.  
  
Spike felt his limbs working on auto pilot, moving without him. He remembered fighting, kicking, punching, slamming. Visions of a dusty temple and a young Asian girl filled his mind. Block, punch, punch, kick, block. The moves came easily. He was fighting to the death. He knew he was going to win. He had to win. The battle infested his blood, the need to kill rising in him. This was what he had waited for, the thrill of the battle. As he lunged forward kicking up a storm of dust as he did. The slayer was strong, but not that strong, he could beat her. He felt her giving in to him, letting go. She wanted to die. That was the secret to killing the slayer that no other vampire had fully grasped. You cannot kill the slayer, unless she wants to die. Here was a girl ready to die. Spike was only too happy to oblige. She yelled fiercely as she punched him hard on the jaw, and again on his nose. There was a crunch as something broke, but Spike continued, the pain giving him renewed vigour. He charged forward, the moment had come. Spike felt his teeth grow longer, pushing past his bottom lip, and the surging power coarse through his veins. He stopped dead, the dusty temple vanishing, and the lobby of Wolfram & Heart materializing again. He shook his head violently, willing the vampire face away. There was the faint echo of a voice, whispering something in an unknown language, and then it was gone.  
  
Spike hurriedly checked his face. The demon had gone. He was a boy again. "Mine down lieutenant" Tilly said.  
  
"Err...yeah, me too." Spike mumbled trying to clear his head and make sense of his strange vision. "Yeah, got the ninjas!"  
  
"Lets make a break for the exit." The two children ran towards the vending machine and the door beyond that lead to freedom. Skidding and sliding, looking out for their adversaries, they cavorted past the glum faces of the lawyers around. They where meters away from their goal, when someone walked through the door, and grabbed the pair by their shirts.  
  
"Spike," Wesley said, setting the vampire down. "Going some where?"  
  
"We were running from the ninjas" Spike said.  
  
"Right. Carry on." Wes caught sight of Fred and went over to greet her.  
  
"Is that you dad?" Tilly asked.  
  
Spike straightened his ruffled shirt. "Nah, that's... Uncle Wes." He pointed to Fred who was skipping to greet Wesley. "And that's my Aun'y Fred." Tilly and Spike watched as the pair kissed hello, once, twice, three times. "They're in love." Spike added.  
  
Tilly wrinkled her nose, "Gross."  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said." Spike agreed. "They're always kissing."  
  
"I think it's to stop conversation." Tilly said. "Grown-ups are so bored by each other they kiss so that they both shut up." The children watched Fred and Wes for a while longer, "You're Uncle Wes must be pretty boring." Tilly concluded.  
  
"Yeah, he is." said Spike.  
  
"Matilda." A woman's voice echoed around the office, "Matilda!"  
  
Tilly look petrified. "Oh no! It's my Nanny Lil. I have to go." She looked worriedly at Spike, "Listen, will you be my friend?"  
  
Spike nodded enthusiastically, "Of course! I mean, yeah. Sure." He was suddenly stricken "But Tilly, I've got a secret-"  
  
She hurriedly shushed him, "S'ok." She winked, "So have I." she was off in a flash, scampering over to her nurse. "Nanny Lil." She said, grabbing hold of a young woman's arm.  
  
The dark haired nurse turned around, visibly glad to have located her charge. Spike guessed she was about the same age as Aun'y Fred, but she was taller and looked much more stressed. "Matilda!" she cried in relief, taking Tilly's arm.  
  
"I'll see you again Spike." Tilly called back to him.  
  
"Wait when? Where do you live?" Spike asked.  
  
"I live here silly." called Tilly. "I'll see you next time I escape."  
  
"Who was that?" Fred asked as Spike made his way over to the grown-ups.  
  
"A friend." Spike said proudly. "Her name is Matilda. I call her Tilly because we're friends. Friends use short names,"  
  
"You can tell Angel all about her if you like." Fred said, "He's just coming down to meet us. He'll only be a minute." Fred turned her attention back to Wesley who was hovering by her side. "Wanna get ice-cream for lunch?"  
  
"You always want ice-cream." He said, "I'm putting my foot down, we're going to get hamburgers if it kills me."  
  
"Alright." Fred sighed, "But can we get ice-cream on the way back? I need my freezing sugar fix."  
  
"Alright. Nice blouse." Wes said, tugging and the frilly sleaves of Fred's shirt. "Very sexy."  
  
"Ha!" Fred cried, turning to Harmony, "hear that, not nerdy book girl, but sexy."  
  
Harmony scoffed, "C'mon Wesley can't judge. One, he's smitten with you, so he's a biased judge, and two, he's a nerdy book guy, so of course he finds the nerdy book girl thing sexy."  
  
Wes grinned "She has a point."  
  
"Yes, I do." Harmony said, "But enough about Fred, what about me? I have a problem and no one will help!"  
  
"What's the problem?" Wes asked.  
  
"I'm going on a date with Larry the chaos demon, and I have nothing to wear." She whined.  
  
"Have you actually seen a chaos demon?" Wesley asked.  
  
"No," Harmony said, "We met over the internet. Demon Singles chat-room."  
  
Wes smiled, "I'll give you a tip, wear something you don't mind getting slime on."  
  
"Angel!" Spike cried, tuning out from the grown-up talk and running to meet his guardian at the elevator doors.  
  
"Hey Spike." Angel said, patting the child's head.  
  
"Hey Angel." Fred said, giving him a wave.  
  
"Everything go fine with the new client?" Wesley asked.  
  
"Yes, we've worked something out with a Chinese spirit guide, I'll give you the details later. Was Spike ok this morning Fred?"  
  
Fred nodded, "Great, he fought of ninjas and dragons and a couple of the x-men."  
  
"Wolverine," Spike said, "With his claws. And Storm."  
  
Angel looked slightly puzzled, "Um, good. I think."  
  
"And I made a friend! Tilly, she's my friend. But you have to call her Matilda. That's what her non-friends call her ok?" Spike said hurriedly.  
  
Angel considered this. He had told Spike not to make friends with anyone around here. This Matilda could be a demon... but then, so was Spike. He sighed. Spike probably needed a friend. Demon or otherwise. "That's great, and I'll remember to call her Matilda." he said. "Ready for lunch?"  
  
Spike nodded "Ok, carry me?" He held up his arms and waited for Angel to lift him up.  
  
Angel looked around awkwardly, before bending to heave Spike into his arms. Spike wrapped his arms around Angel's neck and rested his head on Angel's shoulder. Angel nodded curtly to his staff and headed back towards the elevator, Spike peeping over his shoulder.  
  
"Is it just me, or was Angel kinda cute with Spike just now?" Harmony asked.  
  
Wes shrugged, "Looks like Angel's coping after all."

* * *

Yay, pointless! Review me? Please? I live of reviews.... You want me to die?! ='( 


	8. The Niceties of Company

Chapter 8

Niceties of Company

A/N: I did it again! I wrote 10 pages, which is just too much to expect you all to read. Ya'll no doubt lose interest after 5, but I had a lot to say.  
  
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They stalked along a dark alley in the back suburbs of Prague, just him and his girl, the way it should be. Their prey, two similar lovers up ahead, walked on oblivious of their demonic pursuers. He could see them talking quietly, feel the warmth of their skin, the beat of their hearts. Their blood reeked of humanity. His favourite flavour. Beside him, Drusilla sang quietly, "run, rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run."  
  
He smiled ruefully at his love, "Shhh love, don't scare the little bunnies."  
  
She laughed, a low mad giggle, "Nice little nibblets, hop hop hop." She skipped two slender fingers along her arm and up into her mouth, bitting down on her black nails with a wicked grin. "Fetch the sweet rabbits for me Spike?"  
  
He growled, a low fierce rumble that made Drusilla laugh, "For you love." He purred. He advanced silently down the alley towards his dinner, who had paused under a street lamp to light their cigarettes. "Evenin' folks," He grinned, "Got a light?" The pair looked surprised and confused at seeing the blond stranger appear from the darkness, "Never mind," He continued, "I shouldn't smoke. They say cigarettes will kill you." He grinned, his demon face corrupting the angelic human one of his misleading façade. "Not a problem for me though, I'm already dead." He swiftly launched his fist first at the frightened man, putting a stop to any fight he might try to put up. The woman screamed, as they always did, and tried to run away, but he caught her. "Where are you going luv?" He asked, shoving the girl sideways to expose her neck, "we were just about to have tea." Spike awoke with a start. He was hot, so so hot; the sleeping bag was smothering him. He kicked it off and sat up, shaking and sweating. He looked around. Angel's bedroom. He was on his mattress on the floor, it was dark, but he was safe. With a tentative hand he felt his teeth. They were normal sized, the demon was gone. It had been a dream.  
  
Scalding tears slipped down his cheeks. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been something else, something real. He had been in that alley, he had hurt that girl and worse, he had enjoyed it. The tears kept coming and soon Spike was crying into his pillow, his tiny frame shaking on the roll out mattress. He felt so bad, he didn't mean to hurt that poor girl, he wanted it to go away but it wouldn't. It hurt so much, and no matter how many sorries he hiccuped into his pillow the pain didn't go. He was a bad kid. He was a bad kid, he did bad things. He was no good. He cried selfishly for himself. He didn't deserve his own tears.  
  
"Spike?" It was Angel, looming above him from the bed. Spike reached out his arms, a fresh wave of sobs erupting from his throat. Angel heaved him onto the bed and into an enveloping embrace. "Shh Spikey shh, did you have a bad dream?" Spike nodded dumbly, still hiccuping through his tears. "What was it about?"  
  
"It hurts." He mumbled into Angel's chest. "I'm really sorry."  
  
"What hurts?" Asked Angel, fighting to keep his voice calm. "Did you hurt something?"  
  
Spike looked up at Angel in horror. "Hurt... I hurt..." He buried his face in Angel's chest, "I'm sorry."  
  
Angel held onto Spike tightly, "Shh, it's ok now. It's ok. It was just a dream. You're safe now."  
  
Spike grabbed a hold of Angel's shirt, making sure he really was safe now. "Yeah." He mumbled, "Just a-a-a dream."  
  
Angel lay back gently, Spike still firmly in his arms, "It's all ok. Go back to sleep." Spike stopped shaking and fell still. Soon he was asleep again, this time peacefully. Safe in Angel's arms.  
  
Quiet, as the saying went, too quiet. Angel's office was suspiciously silent that afternoon, and the vampire was having none of it. Where was the loud make-believe play? The sound of books and furniture being knocked about to build a fort? There wasn't any tantrums or yelling. Spike could not possibly be this quiet, unless he was up to something. "Spike?" Angel called cautiously.  
  
The little vampire giggled and took a running leap from behind the sofa launching himself at Angel's desk. Defying gravity, the blond vampire child hurtled towards the desk and over it, crashing into his grandsire and landing safely on Angel's lap. "Hello." He called brightly.  
  
Angel would have had a heart attack if that was still possible. He set Spike down on the floor, shaking from the experience of watching his charge dive headfirst towards a mahogany desk and go sailing over the top. "Spike, don't do that!" He gasped. "You'll hurt something."  
  
"No I won't" Spike said, leapfrogging over a side table. He bounced twice on the couch and jumped of, hitting a book case and pulling two heavy volumes down with him. He giggled hysterically sprawled on the floor, the huge demon encyclopaedias mercifully inches from his face.  
  
Angel looked horrified at the scene of barely avoided catastrophe. It was time to put his foot down. "Spike no!" He barked, "Now you can have fun, but I will not have you destroying my office or hurting yourself."  
  
Spike pouted, still flat on his back. "Can I go outside?" He asked.  
  
"No," Angel sighed, "It's daytime. No sunlight Spike you know the rules."  
  
"It's a stupid rule." Spike mumbled, getting up and going to sulk in the corner.  
  
Angel felt like agreeing, but he kept his mouth shut. He had work to do and he didn't want to provoke Spike further, not when he was sulking nice and quietly. He went back to reading over the new contracts pilled on the side of his desk, signing off on this project and that enchantment. Who knew demons needed this much paper work to do evil. Spike watched him curiously from sulk headquarters in the corner.  
  
"What are you doing?" Spike asked, deciding his sulking wasn't getting any attention.  
  
"I'm working." Angel replied, "Reading things I have to read."  
  
"I'm not sure how reading works," Spike began, "But I know you don't need a pen to do it." He pointed accusingly at the fountain pen in Angel's hand "What is that for?"  
  
"Signing things" Angel said. As Spike remained confused, Angel decided to teach him something. "Look here." He said, beckoning Spike over and pulling him onto his lap. "When I finish reading something, I write my name at the bottom. This tells Harmony I read it, and I think it's ok."  
  
Spike looked curiously at Angel's signature. He clasped the fountain pen in both hands and tried to mimic the scribble below. His attempt was even less readable than the original. Spike had failed his first attempt at writing. "Fooey." He spat.  
  
Angel resisted the urge to smile at Spike's choice of words. "It's ok, it's hard to do a signature." He handed the pen back to Spike. "Here, I'll teach you how to write your name, so you can sign documents" He picked up another pen and a scrap of paper. "Ok, so what's your name?" 

"Spike." Spike giggled dumbly.  
  
"Ok, Spike stars with an 'S', ssss sound." Angel hissed as he drew the squiggly letter on his scrap of paper. Spike mimicked Angel's letter, and ended up with a squiggle slightly resembling an unbalanced 'S', which he regarded proudly. "Great." Angel said, instinctively giving Spike a squeeze. "Ok, so then we have puh, P." He drew the second letter, which Spike also copied proudly. "'I' which is a little stick man with a dot on top for his hat, a 'K', with two sticky outy bits like this, and then 'E', an almost circle and a line here." As Angel wrote the rest of Spike's name out. The little vampire copied his instructions carefully. He mastered 'I' and 'K' but got stuck on "E". The curvey letter was just not behaving well form him. Angel took Spike's hand in his own, and helped him hold his pen. "Across and around." He said, guiding Spike's hands.  
  
Spike looked at his newly crafted signature, glowing with satisfaction. "S-pi-ke." He sounded out.  
  
"That's great work!" Angel said proudly, "You can sign documents now."  
  
Spike considered this. He looked at his own signature, and then back at Angel's, noticing the difference in appearance. "Hmm... I think I want to practice a bit more before I sign anything." He hopped of Angel's lap, taking his piece of paper and pen with him, and set up camp on the floor. Angel watched with a hint of pride as Spike began painstakingly practicing his name.  
  
Spike sat back and looked at his work. He had written his name six times, and it was starting to look pretty good. The His name kinda slanted upward, the E was a lot bigger than the S, but the K looked great, and the S only had two curves like Angel's, unlike some of Spike's first tries which had three. His signature was perfect! Now he could sign things like Angel! He could help sing things for Harmony, and then Angel could play. Satisfied with his new plan, Spike scurried out of the office into the lobby to find Harmony. "Harm'ny, Harm'ny!" He called, galloping over to the vampire secretary.  
  
"Heya cutie-pie." She said, dropping her work to greet Spike.  
  
"Harm'ny," He scowled, "Don't call me that. That's a wussy girl name." Harmony looked sad and offended but Spike waved her off, "Look at this!" He cried brandishing his practiced signature.  
  
"Wow you can write?!" Harmony scrutinised Spike's signature, "You're pretty good, soon they'll be getting you to do my job." She paused for a minute as she considered this prospect, "I think it's illegal for little kids to have jobs and stuff though, so I'm safe."  
  
Spike looked put out, "So, I can't sign stuff like Angel can?"  
  
"Well," She considered, "Oh, I could never resist your pout! Ok! You can sign stuff. You are like 100 years old. The kid rule probably doesn't apply." She grabbed a small stack of files from her desk and handed them to Spike. "Here, I don't think there's anything to evil in there. Just read it over and if it's ok sign it."  
  
"I can't read." Spike said.  
  
"It's hard hey," Harmony sighed, "Sometimes I read D's as P's, which would be ok, unless you work in an evil law firm. I'm signing stuff about pastry, and it turns out a lot of people get killed. Pie, die, I'm sorry the letters look so similar!"  
  
Spike gave her a confused look and went to sit on the lobby chairs to sign his documents. He decided to try and read them, just in case he learnt somehow, but the little black lines were still a muddle. He peered closely at the big letters up the top. There was some squiggles he didn't recognise, but one of them made sense. "S!" He cried triumphantly, "for 'S-pi-ke!'"  
  
_"Bit late for writing in'it?"_ The man asked.  
  
Spike looked up. It was that voice again. The one from his dreams. His own voice.  
  
_"Oh, I'm sorry."_ A different boy's voice replied. _"Is this your lawn?"_  
  
He chuckled, _"No, no, sit all you want."_ The vampire regarded his victim in the fading light of dusk. The boy was small and reedy, a twig really, but he was young. He was writing something by the light of a street lamp. _"Poems is it?"_  
  
The boy hid is work, flustered _"Oh, um yes."_  
  
_"I used to write poems."_ He said, looking wistfully at the boy _"Silly little things."_  
  
_"Poems?"_ The boy blushed, _"I like them."_  
  
_"Oh, not poems."_ The vampire grinned, _"Humans."_  
  
The boy looked frightened, and pulled away, ready to run. _"What's... who are you?"_  
  
Demon face on, the vampire replied, _"I'm-"  
_  
"Spike!" Spike looked up from his documents.  
  
"Tilly!" He cried, spotting his friend.  
  
Tilly began to walk over, "Oh I'm sorry," She said nervously, "I didn't realise you had company. I don't want to intrude"  
  
Spike hurriedly shook his head, "Oh, no. I... I don't like them. I'd much rather play with you."  
  
Tilly smiled broadly, "Cool. I'm up for a game."  
  
"Oh look at this!" Spike grabbed his scrap of paper and proudly showed Tilly his signature.  
  
"What is it?" Tilly asked confused.  
  
"It's my name!" he said, "See? S-pi-ke. I can write."  
  
Tilly's jaw dropped, "Wow, that is so cool! Can you teach me?"

Spike furrowed his brow, "I dunno. What do you want to know how to write?"  
  
"Can you teach me my name?" She asked.  
  
Spike made a face, "I only really know how to write Spike. Is 'Tilly' the same as that?"  
  
She thought about it for a while. "I don't think so." She said sadly.  
  
Spike looked sad too, but he's expression brightened as an idea struck him, "Oh! Angel can write lotsa things! I'm sure he could show you how to write your name!"  
  
Tilly jumped up and down excitedly, "Cool! Where is Angel?" She looked around, "Did he disappear with your other friends?"  
  
Spike shook his head, "No, he's in the office, this way." Spike grabbed the stack of papers Harmony had given him and set of towards Angel's office with Tilly.  
  
"Is Angel like you?" Tilly asked.  
  
"Well, he doesn't look like me." Spike said.  
  
"No, I mean," Tilly furrowed her brow, "is he... like you? different? You know... you're not quite... right."  
  
Spike looked puzzled but the odd question was put out of his mind as they reached the office door. "Angel, Angel look who I found! Well, actually, she found me, but she's here now!" Spike galloped into the office, leaving a shy Matilda waiting by the door.  
  
Angel looked up. "What's going on Spike?"  
  
"I found my friend Matilda." Angel caught sight of Tilly in the doorway, half hidden by the wooden door.  
  
"Matilda." Angel said, unsure of how to proceed. "Hi."  
  
"You gotta teach her how to write her name!" Spike said, "'Cause I only know Spike. But if Tilly could sign things too, then we could both sign paper for Harmony, and I have a big lot to sign. Plus it's hard to read them. 'Cause I can't read"  
  
Angel put a hand to his forehead, Spike was hard to understand at the best of times, and now he was excited. "What did Harmony give you?" He asked. Spike held out the stack of documents for Angel to look at. He flipped through the pages, his face darkening as he read on. "Harmony gave you these? To sign?" Spike nodded. Angel ran a hand through his hair, "I'll be right back." He said through angrily gritted teeth.  
  
Tilly hurried out of the way as Angel stormed by. "He's a bit grumpy sometimes." Spike said, "But he's pretty ok too."  
  
"Is he your dad?" Tilly asked.  
  
Spike looked away, "I... he's... it's..." He didn't know how to answer. The question made him feel funny inside, but he didn't want to tell Tilly that. He didn't want to say Angel wasn't his dad, but he didn't think Angel would want Spike to say he was. He didn't really like thinking about it.  
  
Tilly didn't press the matter, she knew about tricky situations, "He has a long shadow." She said moving on, "Longer than yours."  
  
Spike looked down at the puddle of shadow at his feet. "He's tall though. I'm little, so or corse I have a little shadow."  
  
"Not really." Tilly shrugged "yours is longer than most."  
  
"What does that mean?" Spike asked.  
  
Tilly avoided Spike's eyes and turned instead to regard the room around her, "This place doesn't look like much fun."  
  
"It's not." Spike admitted, "But we can jump on the couches, sometimes I make and obstacle course."  
  
Tilly smile excitedly, "I know! Let's play pirates!"  
  
"Yeah!" Spike agreed, "And ninja's!" From the bottom draw of Angel's desk Spike took two long wooden stakes. "These can be swords"  
  
Tilly grabbed hold of a stake and tested the weapon, "Wow! These are so cool! What are they."  
  
"Dunno," He shrugged, "Angel takes them out sometimes."  
  
"They are so cool," Tilly reaffirmed. The children struck fighting poses, "Let's go then scurvy sea dog." She grinned maliciously, "Watch out, I might stake you."  
  
--------  
  
"Harmony! Angel cried. "What on earth do you think you're doing?!"  
  
Harmony looked up from her phone, "Look, it's my break; I can make a personal call."  
  
Angel hit the hang up button angrily, "You can't just give Spike legal documents to play with! Some of these are dangerous!"  
  
"Sorry." She muttered, "At least I let him have some fun."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Angel growled.  
  
"He's a kid Angel!" Harmony said, "And kids need fun and play time and love. You don't give him any of that."  
  
"How do you know what I feel for Spike?" Angel seethed.  
  
"Well if you love him why don't you show it?" She huffed, "That pour kid gets more love from the pot plants. He worships you Angel. Just smile at him once. You're supposed to look after him."  
  
"I didn't ask for this." Angel replied.  
  
"Yeah, but you got it." Harmony said. "Spike is yours now. So get off your broody high horse and give him a hug or something."  
  
Angel couldn't reply. Harmony, of all people, was right. "I'm trying Harmony." He sighed, "But it's... difficult."  
  
Harmony patted Angel's head fondly, causing the older vampire to shrink away, "Don't know how to have fun? I'm not surprised."  
  
"I know how to have fun!" Angel defended. "How do I have fun?" he asked, resolve and pride gone.  
  
"Just go with the flow." She instructed.  
  
"Which flow would that be?" Angel asked.  
  
"The fun flow." She specified "From happy lepricon mountain. I don't know Angel. Fun just happens; all you have to do is be there and play along. Just 'cause your Mr Dark and Broody Creature of the Night doesn't mean you can't be a dork right. And kids are like that, dorky and embarrassing."  
  
"Thanks Harmony," Angel sighed, "I think that was helpful." He turned back to the office.  
  
"Wait." Harmony called, "weren't you going to yell at me for something?"  
  
Angel shrugged, "I'll yell next time you mess up."  
  
"Take that ye blaggard." Spike lunged forward with his stake, but Tilly blocked him.  
  
"I'm no blaggard!" Tilly said, "Ye be the bladdard ya worthless retch!"  
  
"Wait, who's the pirate?" Spike asked.  
  
"I am." She said.  
  
"I thought I was the pirate." He said. "I don't wanna be a ninja."  
  
Tilly sighed exasperatedly, "We can't both be pirates." She said.  
  
"Why not?" Spike asked.  
  
Angel opened the door to his office and his stomach dropped. Soaring in the middle of the room where Spike and Matilda and both children were armed with stakes. He resisted the urge to yell and charge at the little girl who had her weapon poised above Spike's chest. "What are you doing?" he cried.  
  
"Playing pirates and ninjas." Spike said. "We're pirates, these are our swords."  
  
Angel was about to roar a reprimand at the children, when a strange idea hit him. "So, you pirates fight ninja's right?" he asked, "Well, I'm a ninja." He struck a fighting stance, "come fight me." Spike and Tilly looked at each other and shrugged. In a flurry of yells and flailing limbs the two children charged at the vampire. Using his lighting fast reflexes, Angel snatched the stakes from his attackers and held them aloft above his head.  
  
"Hey! That's my sword." Matilda cried.  
  
"Ninja's do not fight with swords." Angel said in his best ninja accent. "We fight with the power of the tiger in our fists of furry." He threw the stakes on top of the filing cabinet where the children couldn't get them. "You still game to take me on little pirates?"  
  
"Arr, I'll take on a scurvy ninja any day." Spike said, charging at Angel. Tilly charged too and Angel was soon buried under the violent children. He roared and threw them off, readying himself for the next attack. It came swiftly as Tilly grabbed hold of his ankles and refused to budge. Angel bent down and weakly pretended to tug Tilly off. While he was close to the ground, Spike grabbed hold of his neck and latched onto the vampire's back. Angel stood up swiftly in an attempt to throw the child off, but Spike held fast. "Little boy hold on tight. Big ninja no match for kiddie kung fu grip."  
  
Spike lent in close to Angel's ear and whispered, "This is fun. We should play more often."  
  
Angel whispered back to his child, "We will. I promise."  
  
reviews make the world go round


	9. Winning Over Wesley

Chapter 9  
Winning Over Wesley  
  
A/N: Do ya'll know how to play "What's the Time Mr Wolf?" One person stands at one end of a field, and every else calls out to them "What's the time Mr Wolf." Then they decide it's like 3 O'clock, and everyone has to take three big steps forward. Eventually, once you get close to the wolf, they say it's "Dinner Time" and chase everyone back to the starting line. Who ever they catch becomes the wolf next time. We play that all the time in sport, it's kinda funny seeing 22 teenage girls running and squealing as they play children's games. That's us all over.  
  
Ah, but on the actually important notes... This chappie a bit of light is shed on Tilly's past, but not all of it. Beh, It might all be explained by the end ) Plus, for those of you who like Fred and Wes (which is me for sure) cuteness in this chappie!  
  
E/N: What's the Time Mr. Wolf is awesome-ness on a stick.

Five in the morning brought no light to Fred's dark apartment, though dawn was still some hours away. The houses around were silent, no wind to ruffle the curtains behind closed windows, no cars yowling down the deserted streets. Inside Fred's warm yellow apartment was mostly silent too. In the kitchen the _drip drip_ of the tap onto the dirty dinner plates kept the lonely mouse in the cupboard awake, but the occupants of the bedroom were undisturbed. Winifred the physicist was happily curled up asleep with the scruffy ex watcher Wesley. Neither of them had any intention of wakening up any time soon; Wesley had arrived home only three hours ago after helping with a demon take-down and Fred had crawled home from the lab half an hour later. Working with Angel, a natural creature of the night, had them keeping odd hours, and neither knew how long they would have to sleep tonight. Still, for now it was blissfully homey and silent in the apartment, as the two lovers slept peacefully together under the fluffy feather doona.  
  
A sound disrupted the cosy quiet of the world; the low bubble of a phone ringing. Wesley heard it first. He sat up slowly and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Beside him Fred began to stir but he shushed her, mumbling that he would get the phone and that she should go back to sleep. Within moments the physicist could be heard snoring again. Dragging his feet across the room Wesley ambled towards the phone, knocking into a table and almost toppling a pile of books off it. He reached the phone too late however as about a meter away he heard the answering machine pick up the call.  
  
"Hi, this is Winifred." He heard Fred's recorded voice say, "and Wesley's around here somewhere."  
  
His own voice on the tape called from the back ground, "Did you say something?"  
  
"You can tell he's paying attention." She laughed, "We didn't pick up the phone, we're probably out. Leave us a message and we'll get back to you ASAP ok? If this is a life or death situation... um, oops? We'll help next time... Oh and wait for the beep..."  
  
Wesley tuned out as the caller, Fred's lab assistant, started to apologise for calling so early and began talking science to the machine. This was the first time he had heard the answering machine message. Fred had made a new one a while ago but, as was apparent, he hadn't paid much attention to it. Wesley was surprised to find that he wasn't actually surprised his name was on the recorded message too, his voice even. Just another little thing tying him to this house, his home of late. He had his own apartment, but he didn't go there much anymore. Any one who wanted to find him called Fred's place, because that's where he lived really.  
  
Looking around the room he realised most of his stuff was here. A couple of his shirts were folded neatly on the couch having just been washed, his shoes and umbrella where next to the door. In the kitchen, next to Fred's instant coffee were his staple brand of tea and two of the three cups he liked his tea in. The other cup was in the bedroom where he had tea the night before last. He realised he also had two of his own draws in the dresser, full of his clothes. It hadn't been a conscious thing, he'd just needed a place to put his stuff, but now he had dresser draws. The bathroom was full of his things too; on the edge of the sink where two tooth brushes, green for Wesley and purple for Fred.  
  
Quite by accident Wesley had moved in.  
  
A shuffling from the bedroom caught his attention; Fred was up. Still obviously half asleep, rubbing her eyes and patting her puffy hair. A broad smile spread across Wesley's face, "You're so beautiful." He sighed.  
  
Fred smiled wearily. "That's nice." She shuffled over to him and rested her head on his shoulder, "Why are we awake?"  
  
Wesley put an arm around the slender woman, "There was a phone call. Nothing important."  
  
"It is over now?" Fred asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh good." She said, "Time for sleep now."  
  
Wesley patted her hair fondly. She was beautiful, he thought, and smart and brave and kind and obviously very sleepy. He wondered how he had lived without her, and he didn't think he could do it again. Fred made home worth coming home to. "Is it alright if I live here?" he asked.  
  
Fred made the extra effort to open her eyes and focus on the man beside her, "Are you kidding?"  
  
Wesley felt slightly worried, "No, I'm not."  
  
She closed her eyes and hugged him close, "Of corse you can live here. I thought you did already."  
  
Wesley kissed her hair, "Thank you."  
  
"Now is it time for sleep?"  
  
"Yes, it is."

* * *

"Oh my gawd!" Fred squealed, "You look so darn cute!" The recipient of her compliment was the little vampire child Spike, who smiled bashfully at her squeals. "Turn around again." She instructed. He obeyed, turning around for his adopted aunt. The purpose of this strange instruction was to show of the new clothes Fred had bought for Spike. And he did look darling. Gone were the little beige khakis, replaced by dark black jeans to match his black cotton top. Over that he wore an open red shirt, the sleeves rolled menacingly up, and the newest addition to his outfit, a black leather duster. He was lamb dressed up as big bad ram, sporting the red and black evil ware he had worn as a violent rebel vampire, only in miniature now. Fred thought he looked gorgeous.  
  
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Angel asked Fred as she ordered Spike to strike a fighting pose, "those are ... his evil clothes. Won't they make him evil?"  
  
Fred laughed, "They're just clothes! Plus, he looks so cute. I don't know why we didn't dress him up before." Fred's face lit up, "Oh my gawd! We have a little kid! We can dress him up in super hero costumes, or make him a pirate or a cowboy! This is so exciting!"  
  
Angel put a hand over his eyes, "Why do we have to dress him up?"  
  
"Because it's "cute" Angel." Wesley answered, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"Exactly." Fred replied. "Don't you want to see him dressed up as batman?"  
  
"Not really." Angel said, but Fred wasn't listening.  
  
"You'll be so cute! We could have a costume party or something."  
  
Spike grinned and jumped into her arms, "Aun'y Fred, you have the best ideas."  
  
"How about we don't have a party." Angel suggested. "Is that a good idea?"  
  
"No." Spike replied. "That's a stupid idea."  
  
Wesley laughed quietly, earning a reproachful glare from Angel and a beaming smile from Fred. He liked the second more, and smiled back.  
  
Angel, feeling out numbered and grumpy decided to distract the ex watcher, and pulled him away from the happy pair playing dress up. "Listen Wes." He said, "Can we look up containment files? Like why creatures, or people, are kept here?"  
  
Wesley nodded, "Certainly. Containment has a very extensive archive, they keep almost day by day records and notes on subjects for almost 50 years, and general subject files go back four hundred years. After that they're in the main archives, and harder to find."  
  
"I don't think we'll have to go back very far." Angel said. "I'm looking for something in the last six years, a little girl-"  
  
"Matilda." Wesley guessed, "The girl Spike's taken a shine to."  
  
"Yeah," Angel said, "She seems to live in containment, and I don't think she's really allowed out. Seems harmless, but you never know. I mean, what kind of kid would live in this place?"  
  
"A demon child" Wesley confirmed, "I'll check it out."  
  
"Thanks." Angel said, "I wouldn't want Spike hanging around with the wrong crowd." He stoped himself, "Ok, that was weird and fatherly."  
  
Wesley looked over at Fred and Spike who were playing "What's the Time Mr Wolf?" She looked so happy, eyes closed, calling out the time and waiting for Spike to step closer. "What's the time Mr Wolf?" Spike giggled.  
  
Fred paused, a wicked smile on her face and replied, "It's...dinner time!" Spike squealed and ran away as she charged after him, catching him around the waist and hoisting him into the air. "Got you, got you!" She cried triumphantly.  
  
"Aww Aun'y Fred, you're too good at this game." Spike lamented as he took his place as the wolf.  
  
"She's wonderful isn't she?" Wesley mused adoringly, "With children." He added. Angel didn't look nearly so adoring of Fred, which was probably a good thing Wesley decided, but in any case it was time for a change of subject. Maybe it was time for the awkward subject. He took a deep breath, readying himself, "I went to see Dr Mordred last week," Wesley admitted, "He told me how to make Spike an adult again."  
  
Angel looked shocked, almost like he'd forgotten Spike was supposed to be big. "Oh, how?"  
  
"Spike's "emotional trauma" centres on his father, and a fear of abandonment attached to that." The ex watcher elaborated, "He needs his father's love to grow up again."  
  
Angel furrowed his brow, "But, his father's dead."  
  
Wesley shuffled uncomfortably, "You're his grandsire correct? You sired the vampire who turned him." Angel nodded, "Vampire's sort of raise their children do they not?"  
  
"Proper vampire's do." Angel said with a touch of pride, "I always looked after Darla and Dru."  
  
"Did Drusilla raise Spike?" Wesley asked.  
  
"No..." Angel said, "Dru didn't really have the sense to guide him. So I had to teach him how to hunt and feed."  
  
"Then you would have been like his father then." Wesley said.  
  
Angel suddenly realised where Wesley had been going with these odd questions. "Wes, I never loved Spike, even as a vampire. Not like I loved Dru and Darla." He winced at the unintentional double meaning but Wesley over looked it.  
  
"I think that's probably part of the problem." The watcher replied. "Then when you got your soul-"  
  
"I abandoned him and Dru." Angel said, realising how he must have hurt his child Drusilla, and Spike too. "So... I'm the one Spike has issues with. Great."  
  
"At least we know how to cure him." Wesley reminded Angel.  
  
"Yeah," he said, "I have to love him."

* * *

"But then Ash, he pulled out Charazard, and Charazard doesn't usually listen to Ash and everyone usually gets fried, so I thought he was gonna get fried, but then Charazard listened for once and he KOed Joltion. It was so so so cool." Wesley rubbed his head wishing the annoying buzzing in his ears would go away. The source of the endless buzzing was of course little Spike, enthusiastically recounting the entire history of a children's show called "Pokémon." Who ever invented that show must have been an awful evil demon. "But when the trainer brought out his next pokémon, Nidoran, Charazard went to sleep! So, Ash brought out Bulbasaur-"  
  
"Is Poker-Mon on now Spike?" Wesley asked tersely. "Because there's a TV in the other room, and you can go watch it if you want."  
  
"No, Pokémon is only on at four and six. Oh and seven on Sundays." Spike said. "Now it's Dexter's Lab, and that sucks."  
  
Wesley briefly wondered weather Spike had memorised the TV guide, then realised he had better things to be thinking about. God, Spike was such a distraction. Silently cursing the child on two accounts Wesley turned back to his work. The computer pinged as the results of his search arrived; the containment file record. "Matilda Goldberg." He read.  
  
"Matilda?" Spike perked up at the mention of his friends name, "What about Tilly?" He hoped onto Wesley's lap, surprising the ex watcher. Wesley was not used to children or being sat on.  
  
"Uh, yes it is about Matilda." Wesley scanned the document, taking note of the important stats. "Shadow Dweller?" He read aloud. "No wonder she's in containment."  
  
Spike peered at the document too. "I can read this." He said pointing to the screen.  
  
Wesley looked at the line to which Spike was indicating, "Considered inadvertently dangerous. No intent toward evil." Wesley read aloud.  
  
"No," Spike shook his head, "This bit says "Matilda is Spike's best friend.""  
  
Wesley felt an unexpected smile spread across his face. "You're getting pretty good at reading." He said.  
  
"Yeah. Harmony had me read over some big important files the other day. Wanted me to sign stuff." Spike puffed out his chest, "Stuff she could only trust me with."  
  
Wesley put Spike down on the floor again, "Tell me about Matilda, Spike." He instructed, "What's she like?"  
  
Spike clambered onto the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "Fun." He decided, "She knows lots of cool games. We fight ninja's together sometimes."  
  
"Is she afraid of anything?" Wesley asked.  
  
"No." Spike defended his friend, "Well yeah. She doesn't like shadows. She walks around them, and she won't play hide and seek."  
  
"That's kind of weird." Wesley said.  
  
Spike shrugged, "Maybe, but I don't go out in the sunshine and I can't look in the mirror 'cause my reflection disappeared. Tilly can be afraid of shadows if she likes."  
  
"I think that's a very good approach." Wesley said. Spike really was a remarkably well adjusted and kind child, he mused. Why was the grown-up version such a pain?  
  
"What else does it say about Tilly?" Spike asked eagerly.  
  
"It says she can see extra well, sometimes even see things that others don't see at all." Wesley paraphrased.  
  
"I know." Spike said, "She sees people hiding behind doors and bad things in the mirror. And..." Spike looked uncomfortable, "Sometimes she sees my other friends. The ones I don't like."  
  
Wesley looked confused, "What other friends?"  
  
Spike got of his seat and walked over to the window, "I think I'm gonna play a game." He said. "You're boring."  
  
Wesley sighed, slightly offended "Well, ok then." He went back to his research, copying the file on Matilda Goldberg to send to Angel. "Not that boring." He mutterd. "I'm more interesting than Poker-Mon surely." Concentrating on Tilly's file again, he read the first line quietly to himself, "Committed by her parents at age two." She never had a family at all. No friends either, because there where no other children in Wolfram and Heart to befriend. Until Spike came. It was something of a miracle perhaps that the only two children in the evil law firm had found each other. But then children were like that, miraculous.  
  
"I'm going to be a doctor." Spike announced after a while.  
  
Wesley looked up, surprised by the outburst. "Why?"  
  
"Doctors are nice. Tasty. Don't put up much of a fight." He said.  
  
Wesley's blood ran cold. "What did you just say?"  
  
"Doctors are nice." Spike clarified, "and helpful. They make sick people alright." Wesley didn't know whether to trust his ears. Had Spike just referred to doctors as "tasty"? Was the little vamp, a little evil vamp? Perhaps it was lack of sleep playing tricks on Wesley's mind. "Doctors are heroes aren't they?"  
  
"Yes," Wesley pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on Spike's real words, "Some people see them as heroes."  
  
"They save lives," Spike continued, "and they wear cool coats."  
  
"It's hard work being a doctor." Wesley reminded the child.  
  
Spike thought about this, "But all the best things are hard aren't they?" he mused. "And I'd be a hero, and make people feel all good again. It's decided; I'm going to be a doctor."  
  
Wesley felt something shift in his chest, a weight gone from his shoulders or a barrier collapsed in his mind. He lent down to Spike's level and before he could think about it he was admitting "I wanted to be a fireman, when I was little."  
  
"Firemen are cool too." Spike said, "They wear cool coats. They save people from burning, which is good. Burning is awful painful I think."  
  
"Firemen are brave." Wesley said, "They go charging into fires and they aren't scared. All that matters is putting out the fire and saving the people. Nothing can beat a fireman, nothing frightens him, no one can boss him around or make him miserable." Wesley remembered well why he had wanted to be a fireman as a child. If he was brave, and could fight fires and save people, he could stand up to his father and he wouldn't be afraid anymore. "Firemen are brave and heroic. That's why I wanted to be one." He smiled at Spike, "Plus, I liked their red hats. They look cool."  
  
"Why didn't you be a fireman then?" Spike asked.  
  
"I don't think my father would have liked that." Wesley said, "Plus, I was never brave enough to fight fires. I'm better at reading big books."  
  
"Don't you want to be a hero?" Spike asked.  
  
"Sometimes." Wesley admitted, "Not everyone can be a hero. I don't think I was made for the job. I tried, but...Well," he sighed, "I tried."  
  
"Aun'y Fred says you're a hero." Spike said. "She says a lot of nice things about you. But once we were talking about knights, and she said you were a white knight, and her hero."  
  
Wesley smiled a small warm smile at the child, "Isn't that nice of her to say."  
  
"Well I said she should get over you already." Spike said, "It's gross the way she talks."  
  
Wesley laughed. "Weren't you going to be a doctor?" Wesley prompted.  
  
"Weren't you going to be a fireman?"  
  
"Touché Spike," Wesley laughed.

A wicked smile corrupted Spike's features forming what was known to some as Spike's idea face. "I'm gonna make you something." He said. The little vampire grabbed a handful of Wesley's pens and a scrap of paper. Settling down on the floor, he began to draw. Wesley tried to take a peak at what the child was making, but he guarded his secret saying, "Just a minute, nearly finished." He scribbled over and folded his scrap of paper for almost ten minutes until he was finally satisfied. "Ok, done." He got up and shuffled over to the watcher. "Close your eyes."  
  
"What are you doing?" Wesley asked nervously as the child cambered onto the table.  
  
Spike pulled something over Wesley's head, and the ex watcher had the worrying feeling he was about to be embarrassed. "Ok, open your eyes." Wesley slowly did as he was told, apprehensively trying to see what Spike had given him. "It's a fireman's hat." Spike said.  
  
Wesley reached up and carefully pulled the folded paper hat of his head. It was more of a box shape than a hat shape and the edges were only just folded together. Spike had coloured it red with a biro, and there where lots of white gaps. "Well? What do you think?"  
  
The ex watcher smiled at the scruffy gift, feeling very proud and honoured to have been given such a thing. "Spike," he said carefully, "I can honestly say, this is the best fireman's hat I have ever been given." 


	10. A Lot of Acceptance

Chapter 10  
A lot of Acceptance

Disclaimer: Uh, I was gonna do these more often wasn't I? Ok, not mine and I don't make any money off it. My BtVS bake sale was a big bust too, so no money there ) Oh and a special disclaimer (which I prolly should have had last time), I don't own "Pokémon" but I do own any mispronunciations of it.  
  
A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I've been replying to most, but my hotmail is a hideous hell beast and often doesn't play fair. Sorry if I missed e-mailing you to say thanks, but I really do get, read and appreciate all your reviews.  
  
Not totally a cute chapter...I had to have some "action" for "plot purposes" I hope you'll bear with me.  
  
I'm going to Japan today! Bye all ) back soon )  
  
E/N: Sorry if the formatting is a little off, I don't know how she usually does it but I've posted this because Illy has to get some sleep before she gets on her plane.

* * *

"They've been running for hours." Gunn sighed, peering around the door into Wesley's office.  
  
The intended audience of the statement, Wesley, checked his watch "They've only been running for 47 minutes." He informed Gunn.  
  
"What are they running for anyway?" Gunn asked, "They just keep going round and round in circles." Though the situation was somewhat exaggerated in Gunn's bemoaning, it was true that the children had been running in tedious circles for a long while. Tilly had turned up in the afternoon, as she often did, unchaperoned and asking to play with Spike. Wesley had happily handed the job of playing with Spike over to the demon girl and ever since Spike and Tilly had been running endlessly around Wesley office, occasionally jumping over things and squealing to add spice to an otherwise apparently repetitive game. However, despite the grown-ups scepticism as to the appeal of such tedium, the two children seemed happy enough, and it was easier for the baby-sitters to watch the children running than try and tame them. "Wait, wait," Gunn said almost excitedly, "I think they're about to do something different."  
  
With a lot of screaming and squealing, Tilly caught up to Spike and tapped him sharply on the shoulder. "Tag!" She cried, "You're it!" She giggled hysterically and started running away from Spike, who inturn became the chaser.  
  
"Man!" Gunn exclaimed exasperatedly, "Now they're running the other way!"  
  
Wesley patted his friend on the shoulder, "They're children Gunn. Running endlessly in circles is pretty much their calling."  
  
Gunn folded his arms in a show of discontent, "Do we both have to watch them?"  
  
"You're not getting out of babysitting." Wesley said, "I had to put up with 'pika-mon' all morning."  
  
"You're saying it wrong." Gunn informed him. "It's "Pikachu" and "Pokémon.""  
  
Wesley raised an eyebrow, but he had no great desire to continue a conversation about "Pokémon" or "Pikachu" regardless of how it was pronounced. "I thought you said you liked children."  
  
"When they're interesting." Gunn countered, "Not this running in circles stuff. Seriously man, I'm not the house wife, I'm the muscle. I should be out hitting something or-"  
  
"Setting fire to something?" Wesley supplied sarcastically.  
  
"Don't knock the burning, man." Gunn warned.  
  
"There are two highly dangerous demons that need guarding in that office." Wesley reminded him. "Spike has taken down two slayers in his time."  
  
"And now he's six years old and playing run around." Gunn complained.  
  
"I believe it's called tag." Wesley corrected him.  
  
"So I know why Spike's the big, bad and tiny, but what's with the girl?" Gunn scrutinised the dark haired child in the office, "Vampire? She doesn't have horns or scales so she's gotta be part human right?" Tilly cavorted around the Wolfram and Hart office in blissful ignorance of the two men discussing her. Laughing and running with Spike she looked like a normal little girl. But Tilly was just another demon in an innocent's garb, in her case quite literally.  
  
"Matilda is a shadow demon." Wesley explained. "Watch carefully; she won't step into any shadowy parts of the room at all, she stays under the lights."  
  
"What happens if she goes out of the light?" Gunn asked.  
  
Wesley looked ominously at his companion as he uttered, "Shadows will consume her."  
  
"That sounds dangerous." Gunn scoffed  
  
"Our shadows aren't just a dark puddle caused by the deflection of light," Wesley said, "The idea of the shadow is intertwined with out darker selves; the parts of us we would rather not acknowledge. We all have shadows; because we all have regrets and we have all done things we wish we hadn't. Our worst memories, the horrible things we've done, painful times in our past, these are things we push into the shadows." Wesley sighed, regretting as he did often, his own occasionally shadowy past. "Our shadows have immense potential to hurt us. Thus inadvertently, Matilda does too."  
  
Gunn looked again at the smiling little girl, "Is she evil though? Does she have a soul?"  
  
"Oh yes," Wesley assured him, "a soul and a heart." He sighed, "I can't imagine how hard it is for her, just seeing other people. Tilly doesn't just have her own shadows to bear; she has everyone else's as well. When she looks at us, she can see every bad memory we would like to forget, every hideous deed we have ever committed."  
  
Gunn watched Tilly silently, marvelling that such a bright girl could bare such a terrible curse. He furrowed his brow, "So when she looks at Spike..."  
  
Wesley nodded, guessing Gunn's question "Matilda can see every hideous murder he committed as a vampire. The forgiveness of children is boundless it appears. Matilda sees her friend Spike, and doesn't care about the monster he was."

* * *

"Spike's in, chuck him in the bin!" Tilly sang as she scurried around Wesley's office away from her pursuer. "If he's not-"  
  
Tilly was forced to stop abruptly as Spike hurtled over the lounge and landed right in her path. The vampire child grinned malevolently, "If I'm not in," He said, lunging forward and catching her arm "You're in!"  
  
Tilly cursed as Spike ran hurriedly away before she could recover and tag him. He laughed hysterically as she pursued him. Dashing across the office, barely avoiding collisions. Running away gave him an exhilarating warmth in his belly, kinda scary and fun at the same time. He liked the feeling, even the scary part.  
  
Taking his mind of the fun for a moment, Spike realised his legs were feeling kinda like they were made of bricks. It was becoming and effort to lift them, let alone guide them out of trouble. Now that he thought about it, he was aching all over. Running was hard hard work, and he was feeling the ramifications of running for hours. He needed a rest, but Tilly was hot on his heels. Thinking quickly, he spied a spacious dark shadow cast by a tall thin bookcase, and dived for the refuge. Tilly pulled up short as she reached the shadow's boarder and scowled.  
  
"Spike!" She huffed, "That's not fair." Though she looked angry, the heavy breaths broke up the malice in the sentence. Tilly looked about as tired as Spike felt.  
  
"Wanna take a break?" Spike suggested.  
  
Tilly nodded gratefully, "Yeah, I s'pose." The tired children ambled over to the couch and gratefully took an end each. "We...we'll just take a little break." Tilly mumbled sleepily into a pillow.  
  
"Ok." Spike agreed, "then...we'll play...more." However Tilly didn't hear him, she was already sound asleep, and soon Spike was too. A silence that is only found at 2 o'clock on a summer afternoon settled over the office. The shadow from the bookcase crawled across the floor as Spike began to dream.  
  
The ghosts of nightmares haunted him again, but this time, they did not come as memories, but as a dizzying spiel of ima. Shadows of his past spiralled past his eyes, stabbing and screaming as they went. All of them hated him for what he had done. He watched women cry as he drank from their children. Tore clothes and jewels off his victims as trophies. Left bodies to rot on roadsides and in rivers. He listened to the screams. Smelt the acrid stench of virgins. Kicked dead girls at his feet. Broke necks, snapped jaws. Sailors, soldiers, fell limp at his bite. Children bled to death. So much killing. Mothers, fathers, children, babies; all dead. Old women, young women, bad men, saints, privileged, poor, no bodies; murdered. So many deaths, all by his hands, and his teeth.  
  
In his mind, Spike could see all these murders. Explosions of pain swept through him, shaking him all over. It hurt too badly to watch, to know he killed. He looked down, and clasped in his arms was the limp body of a little girl. Thin and drained, unnaturally. Her long black hair was matted across her face, pasted to her cheek with thick fresh blood. The whites of her eyes peaked below her eyelids, her eyes rolled back in her head. She could have been Tilly. Spike had killed her.  
  
The sleeping form of two dreaming children twitched on the office couch, as Spike and Tilly slept not so peacefully. Spike was thrashing in his dreams, trying to ward away the things coming at him. Things were grabbing at him. They wanted revenge. They wanted him to pay. He could feel their dead hands claw at him, scratching him. _"You killed me." _The dark haired girl said, standing alone beside his victims as they flashed past him. She looked at the fallen body of a helpless old woman. _"Why did you kill me?"_  
  
Spike sobbed, ache crushing his chest. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. And he was, so sorry. He felt like he was burning, and the pain wouldn't stop. Just like the killing wouldn't. He begged and pleaded, but nothing could make the visions go away. He had murdered all these people. He was bad, and deserved to be punished. He was bad and terrible and a killer. "I'm sorry." He sobbed again.  
  
_"That's not good enough." _The shadow girl said as Spike saw a pair of twins, one already dead, and his brother crying beside him. A shadow loomed over the remaining boy, and a pale white hand reached out to claim him as well. Two more little bodies to add to the death count. "_Sorry won't bring us back." _The dark haired girl lunged at him and grabbed a hold of his neck. Spike kicked at her, trying to break free, but she was so strong, empowered by the hatred of all his past victims. _"You will pay."_  
  
Spike whimpered in the office, but out in the lobby, Wesley and Gunn didn't hear him. Tilly might have heard, but she was having bad dreams of her own. As the sun had dipped in the sky, the shadows in the office had lengthened and begun to crawl over the couch where the children slept. As the shadows reached her sandals, black smoke curls began to dance hideously around Tilly's ankles. The smoke tendrils lapped at her skirt like waves, and blew gusts of grey wind about her long black hair. Her eyes snapped open, but instead of their usual black, they were glowing white. The shadows lifted her up off the couch, and thrust her to the floor, as vengeful spirits claimed her form. _"You have wronged us. You will pay."_ She cried, unknowingly echoing the words in Spike's dream. She jumped forward and latched vice like onto Spike's neck. Dreams, shadows and reality merged as Tilly attacked Spike, channelling the same hatred as he had felt in his dream.  
  
Spike's eyes snapped open, and he saw Tilly, glowing amidst the grey shadows, as she tried her hardest to strangle him. _"Do you feel the pain killer?" _Tilly screeched, "_does it hurt you, like you hurt us?" _Spike lay helpless in shock, as Tilly tried to throttle him. He realised gratefully that he didn't need to breath, so she couldn't kill him, but the pain in his throat well might. Suddenly, his vampire skills took over, and he kicked her off. She stumbled back, looking horrified. "Spike," she throw her hands over her mouth in anguish as she awoke from her nightmare.  
  
"It's ok Tilly," Spike assured her, "I think it's over. It's ok now."  
  
Matilda screwed up her eyes and began to cry. "No," she sobbed, "it's not ok. I... I...you could have."  
  
Spike tried to clear his head, he didn't know what was going on. "You could see them, couldn't you..." Spike asked, remembering his terrible nightmares.  
  
Tilly nodded, "I saw... and then I... they took me over. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to but... "  
  
"If you saw them, then you know what I am." Spike said. Tilly nodded again. "And if you saw them, you know all the bad things I did." He got of the couch and walked over to his friend. "I have a secret." He said, "my secret is, I'm a vampire. But I'm a good vampire, and I don't want to hurt anyone. Do you want to hurt anyone?"  
  
Tilly shook her head, "No." she sobbed. She looked like she wanted to say more, to excuse her behaviour, to plead for forgiveness, but Spike held up a hand to silence her.  
  
"Angel says it doesn't matter what you are, human or demon, as long as you are good." He held out his hand and helped her to her feet. "And you are good. Do you mind that I'm a vampire?"  
  
"Of course not." Tilly smiled through her drying tears.  
  
"Then I don't mind about what ever you are." Spike was nearly nocked on his back, as Tilly threw her arms around him. He smiled and hugged her back, before hurriedly breaking the embrace. "Careful." He warned, "We might both be demons, but you're still a girl, and I don't want cooties." 

"Right," Tilly agreed, "Sorry."

* * *

"Ok Spike." Angel said as he opened the door to his apartment and assured the vampire child inside. "Toilet, teeth and then get your PJ's on."  
  
Spike grumbled at his grandsire's instructions, "Can't I stay up and watch a little TV?"  
  
Angel shook his head. "No Spike. I don't want you watching that "Late Night Poker" show again. There's something strange and unwholesome about the commentary of a card game." Spike pouted, but Angel stayed firm. "Spike, it's nearly 1 o'clock at night, that's hours and hours after most kids go to bed."  
  
"I'm not like most kids." Spike said, preparing to play the poor-misfit-vampire-kid card for all it was worth.  
  
"I've got to words for you. 'Bed' and 'Time'." Angel insisted, and Spike morosely surrendered. As Spike shuffled of to the bathroom, Angel went to the kitchen to warm up a cup of blood for Spike. He liked to have a warm drink to put him to sleep. Angel watched the plastic blue mug as it rotated slowly in the microwave. Just a month ago, the idea of warming a cup of blood to help Spike sleep would have been strange to say the least, but now it was part of Angel's nightly routine. As was helping Spike into his PJ's, tucking him into bed, and doing a quick check for spiders and snakes behind the curtains.  
  
Angel had once planned to do all this for Connor. He was gonna be the best dad, because he had the most amazing son. Connor was going to grow up to be big and tall and a hero, and Angel would be there every step of the way. But it hadn't worked out that way. Connor had grown up in a hell dimension with a man who hated vampires and especially Angel, and now Connor had fake memories of growing up in a small town with a normal dad and a normal life. Angel felt the familiar stab of jealousy and remorse.  
  
But Spike, Spike was his second chance. He could play the father again, and do all the things fathers were supposed to do. It felt so easy, just to love Spike like his own son. But in the real world, it was never easy; it was always heart wrenching and painful and hard. If Angel allowed himself to love this child... Spike would grow up, and he'd loose another son. He couldn't let Spike go like Connor did. He wouldn't let them snatch away Spike too.  
  
Angel took the cup from the microwave and moved to the bedroom, where Spike was already tucked up in bed. Looking down at the little vampire, eyes pressed shut pretending to sleep, Angel felt something shift in his chest, and he knew it was too late. He already loved Spike, and he so desperately wanted to keep him. But how could he fight this one? Spike didn't belong as a child after all, one day he would have to grow up.  
  
"Here's your drink." He said, as Spike slyly opened an eye to watch Angel settling into bed himself. "I'll leave it here on the table ok?" Spike watched as Angel carefully set the drink down and went to turn his night light on. The elder vampire turned of the main light and pulled back the covers on his bed.  
  
"Check for snakes." Spike insisted.  
  
Angel smiled, as he did as he was bid and checked once behind the curtains and under the bed for snakes and spiders. "All clear." He announced.  
  
"Well alright then." Spike said. "Goodnight."  
  
"Goodnight Spike," Angel said as he slipped into bed and closed his eyes. He hadn't been resting for long when he felt the bed shift as Spike clambered onto the bed and shuffled close to his grandsire.  
  
"Angel," Spike began pensively after a moment.  
  
"Yes Spike?"  
  
Spike remained silent for a while, "Did... when you were a vampire, did you kill people?"  
  
Angel shuffled uncomfortable. "Well yes..."  
  
"I think I did too." Spike said, "And I'm really sorry."  
  
"I know you are." Angel said, "it's ok."  
  
"It's not ok." Spike said, "Because people died because of me, and I didn't care at all. But I care now, and I'm not gonna hurt any one any more. In fact, I'm gonna try really hard to help people. " he sniffed, and when he spoke again, Angel could hear a few unshed tears colouring his voice, "But I did so many bad things, and I was such a bad vampire, and it really won't ever be ok. I can't make up for what I did. Sometimes... it just hurts so much, and sometimes I just wish it wouldn't."  
  
Angel hugged his grandchilde close, "I feel bad for all the people I hurt too." He said, and that seemed to satisfy the vampire child, because Spike was soon fast asleep, dreaming pleasantly for once. 


	11. All Good Things

**Chapter 11  
All Good Things**

A/N: I'm so so sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've been busy, but that's no excuse. I've been lazy is closer to the truth. I promise not to take so long next time!!

Another big waffle of pages. Are these chapters miles to long? Tell me if they are, I don't mind hearing.

Um, in other news, second last chapter. Wow. Thanks for sticking with me so long, more thank you's and such next chapter.

As always, reviews welcomed and loved, criticisms even more so. I really want feedback and such. )

And of course, Merry Christmas!!

* * *

Containment cells were very unhomely places. White, cold and bare; they served only as cages for particularly dangerous demons and were not meant to be lived in. There was nowhere to sit, not even a bench like those found in human police cells, nor were there any beds, because the animals kept inside had no use for sleep. There was nothing in the cells at all. Except in Matilda's case. 

Tilly's cell had a small bed, a closet full of children's clothes and a small trunk of toys, thought it was still unbearably bare. All of her possessions were white and stark, completely devoid of a child's natural mess and colour. This lifeless room had been Tilly's home since she was 2 years old and there was few places she hated more. However, as the unhappy property of Wolfram and Hart, Tilly had no where else to go.

Today she was escaping her cell, at least for a while. The Containments Department was running short handed that morning; all the staff had been called away to deal with a delivery of Shu-ton spiders, a rare breed of Japanese spiders which where extremely poisonous and capable of becoming invisible. With the new difficult arrivals as priority, Tilly had been left unguarded.

She knew from experience that her window of opportunity would be short. Wolfram and Hart was extremely well organised; she would not be forgotten for long. Her cell was never locked because she was allowed to use the bathroom down the hall, so she had no trouble leaving it. The trouble came in escaping the white walls of the Containment Department; all the exits were guarded and many of the corridors were patrolled.

Deciding on a plan of action, Tilly left her cell and started down the hall, past the bathroom. A few cells down, she changed her route and made a mad dash for the corridor on the left. New arrivals were in the South Containment Block, so that area would have to be avoided at all costs. There was an exit in the East Containment Block that was usually open. It was probably her best chance of escape.

Tilly took a deep breath and sprinted past the entrance to the South Containment Block, into the relative safety of the East Containment Block. The ECB, as it was known, housed medium level demons, from the explosive Kantuck fire goblins, to hell dogs and other magical pets. Tilly was used to these beasts, having lived with them for four years, but they still frightened her. However, the medium level demons in the ECB were much less scary than those animals kept in Dangerous Containment, in the West Block. Tilly hurried past the ECB cells, avoiding eye contact for fear of provoking the hell dogs and causing a racket. Such a commotion would alert the staff of her escape.

She spied the ECB exit and dashed to the door. Thankfully it was still unlocked. She eased open the heavy white door and slipped carefully though, out into the world beyond. Away from the oppressive starkness of the Containment Department, Tilly was filled with zeal and confidence. All she had to do now was find Spike, and that wouldn't be too hard, she had managed plenty of times before.

Even after years of exploring the halls and floors of Wolfram and Hart, Tilly had very little idea about the layout of the evil law firm. It was just too big a place to remember where things were. Thus, having no idea where she was going, she hopped in the elevator, pressed the highest button she could reach and hoped it would take her to Spike.

The lift stopped at level 16 and Tilly got out. She didn't recognise anything around her, it certainly wasn't the lobby near Angel's office, but she didn't mind. This new floor presented a chance to explore and discover new adventures. She would find the nearest staircase, she decided, and see if the next floor up was where Spike was.

The left corridor looked exactly the same as the right, so Tilly took it and began her search for a new path. It was a fairly boring corridor as far as she could see; no science labs or testing grounds to play in. There where also very few people around, none of the bustle of lawyers and demons found on some floors of Wolfram and Hart. Tilly liked to see the people, hurrying around the offices and doing important things. The demons could be scary sometimes. Perhaps it was good that no one was around, if no one was here to find her, then they couldn't take her back to Containment.

The corridor had been blank so far, a few nondescript grey doors blending into the walls, but up ahead a door stood ajar. Tilly crept carefully up to the door and peeped inside. There was no one there, so she decided it was safe to take a closer look. Stepping carefully into the room, she surveyed her surroundings. It was a fairly plane room, just a table and chairs in the middle. There wasn't any magic looking relics or glowy demon slimes here. It was kinda boring, and Tilly was about to leave when an un-seen door on the other side of the room swung open.

She dived behind the table as two orange scaly demons in dark red robes entered the room. They were talking in a language she couldn't understand, and clicking their sharp yellow clawed fingers together as they talked. Tilly held her breath. The demons, engrossed in their own business, didn't notice her crouched behind the table and walked straight pass. The demons however, weren't the worst of her problems. As they left the room, they shut the door behind them.

And the light went out.

The room was plunged into complete darkness, trapping Matilda in a room full of shadows.

Tilly could feel what was happening before she could see it. A part of her, the demon part, could sense the shadows beginning to move. They crept along her legs and her arms, tangling her in their smoky web, holding her tight so she couldn't move. She tried desperately to free her arm and reach the little torch she kept in her pocket for emergencies, but the shadows held her fast. They were so strong, pinning her arms to her sides with a force well beyond that any mortal power could exsert. She tried to cry out, but the black shadow filled her mouth till she began to choke. Then the voices started.

"_It's a freak of nature," _the man's voice said.

"_Please," _the woman pleaded, _"she's our daughter."_

"_That thing it not my daughter." _He spat_ "We don't have witches and demons in my family! This is your fault, you disgusting woman." _

Alone in the dark, Tilly began to cry. When ever she was alone, the voices would come, always the same voices. Her parents. The fight. It was the only thing she remembered about them. How they had fought about her, how they had been disgusted by her, how they had given her away.

_"I'm sorry." _Sobbed the woman, _"Please don't go. Please Nick." _

"Either she goes, or I go."

The woman sniffed, and Tilly saw the black shadow of her mother dry her eyes, _"She'll go, I promise, I'll get rid of her."_

Tilly reached out a hand to the shadowy woman, "Mommy." She sobbed, "Mommy no. Don't get rid of me. I love you." She whispered.

The man loomed tall and frightening from the darkness. _"Don't come near me! I hate you." _He said directly to his daughter crouched before his shadowy form, _"we hate you, you little freak." _

"Daddy," Tilly begged, "Mommy please don't."

Her mother turned on her too, anger flaring in her eyes,_ "Evil Demon! You ruined my life! Get away from me!" _

The words hurt her like knives stabbed straight through her heart, they punctured her lungs, till she couldn't breath. But still Tilly reached out desperately towards the monsters that scorned her. These were her parents, she wanted them to love her. "Please, Mommy, Daddy, don't be mad. I love you. I'm sorry."

The visions got dimmer, and the darkness pressed in. The shadows binding her arms and chest got tighter. She felt her ribs digging into her lungs, she wished they would just snap. The blackness filling her mouth stopped her breathing, and she started to feel faint. Soon it would be over, that was a comfort at least.

Just as she felt ready to fall away, a beam of light filtered into the room. Strong arms dragged her into the well lit hall. Her little torch was pressed into her hands. Tilly drank in its glowing rays as the visions disappeared. The light warmed her and chased the shadows away.

The face of her rescuer swam above her. A man's face. "Daddy?" she mumbled. Her vision grew clearer and she recognised the man who had saved her. It was Spike's uncle, Wesley.

"Matilda? Can you hear me?" he asked, "are you alright?"

Tilly reached out for toward him and grabbed a hold of his arm. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry. I was frightened. I saw my Mommy and Daddy, and I was so afraid. I'm sorry."

Wesley pulled the child into his arms, "It's alright to be afraid, but it's over now. You're safe."

Tilly regained her composure and a new sparkle light up her eyes. "I am safe." She agreed, "Because you rescued me. You're my hero!"

Wesley looked almost afraid as he repeated uncertainly, "Hero?"

* * *

Finger painting was probably one of Fred's messier ideas, and that was saying something considering she cut up slimy demons to look at their insides for a living. Why children preferred messy, loud games to a good quiet brood, Angel would never know, but it seemed Fred understood perfectly.

The idea had seemed innocent enough, a little finger painting; an opportunity to teach Spike to appreciate art, but innocent had nothing to do with the sloppy multicoloured mess which now covered Angel office. The old vampire stood slumped against the front of his desk and surveyed the art work his office had become.

"You know what we need?" Spike said, as he ran his fingers over a brown piece of paper covered in a horrible mix of paints. "Yellow."

Fred crawled across the newspaper spread on the floor (which had failed in its job of protecting the carpet, when Fred and Spike had started their "paint fight" that had consequently left splats and blobs all over the office), looking for the paint tubes. "I don't think I can see the yellow. It was around here somewhere." She lifted up a pile of paints and examined the long smeared labels. "We have red. How about red? It's like apples. Or blood. You're a vampire, have some red."

Spike shook his head, "No, I need yellow." He located a small plastic ice cream lid in the middle of the paper. The plastic lid had been the paint tray, before things got messily out of hand. The perfect blobs of paint that had once covered the lid were now a globby mess. Spike scooped up a handful of the remaining mix and plopped it on his paper. "Ok, I have blue, green and orange. Maybe if I mix them together…" He stirred the mixture with his hands for a while, "Hmm, still no yellow. Maybe I need more green."

"I think you've had just about enough green." Angel said, hoisting Spike off the paper and inspecting his charge. There were several green blobs in Spike's hair, along with red and purple. He had a Spike sized blue hand print on his left cheek, and a Fred sized Yellow handprint on his right, and several more blue hand prints on his shirt. Angel looked disapprovingly at the messy child, "It's time to get cleaned up."

Fred got of her knees, wiping the red paint of her glasses, "We did kinda make a mess." She said, surveying the damage. "Sorry Angel."

The vampire pulled out his phone, still holding Spike in his free hand, and dialled a number, "Harmony, can you get a cleaning crew to my office? Low level, no demon slime, just paint." He smiled at Fred, "Wolfram and Hart are on the case. Now you," Angel addressed Spike, "Need to be cleaned up too."

Spike used his lightning quick vampire agility to snatch the phone from Angel's hand. He put the phone to his ear "Harm'ny, get me a clean up crew. Low level, no demon slime, just Spike."

Angel took the phone from him. "Spike, Wolfram & Hart are not your personal clean-up service, they're mine. You have to have a proper bath."

Spike pouted at his grandsire, "But what about my pitchers?" He mispronounced.

"There are pictures to save in that mess?" Angel asked incredulously.

"There were some good ones from early on," Fred said, gathering a few dry paintings from the edges of the colourful mess. "They got a little splattered from the paint war, but they're mostly ok."

"Fine," Angel said, "You two salvage what you will and I'll finish the work I was supposed to do this morning." He pointed an authoritative finger at Spike, "But then it's bath time."

Spike hurried to help his adopted aunt gather their paintings, then the two settled down on the office lounge.

"Do ya wanna keep any?" Fred asked as she thumbed through the pictures.

"I dunno," Spike considered, "What do I do with them?"

"You could give one to Angel." Fred suggested, "He'd love that."

"Yeah!" Spike agreed enthusiastically, "And you can give one to Wesley."

Fred looked away embarrassed, "What would he want with my silly pictures?"

"You have to give him one." Spike decreed, "But you have to choose the best."

"Well, ok. You help me choose a picture for Wesley, then I'll help you choose one for Angel." She shuffled through the pile and got to her pictures.

Spike took the small stack of painting and started looking through them them. Fred's painting were stick figures like Spike's were (the physicist had never been much of an artist). Spike studied her squiggly lines critically. He looked at a green grass line with several four petalled flowers growing from it, a red rabbit with blue ears and, for some unknown reason, green wings, a rainbow in the clouds. He disregarded all of them. "Don't you have anything that doesn't- you know- suck?" He paused at an arrangement of circles and blobs. "What's this?"

Fred smiled excitedly, "Oh! That's the atomic structure of butane and propanol. See, here is the hydrogen, and the single bond-"

Spike shook his head. "That's no good. See, the key to real art, is to make lots of squiggles and spots and say it has meaning when it really doesn't." He tossed the picture aside, "It's no good if it _actually_ means something." Fred picked up her picture, looking a little hurt. Spike continued flipping, passing a few more science diagrams, before he found something he liked.

It was a fire truck, or it was supposed to be. Fred had painted a big red rectangle, with some square white spaces for windows, two black blobs for wheels, a red line coming off the roof (presumably the ladder) and 'fire' in big black letters along the side. Underneath it read 'Never fear, the hero is here.'

"You have to give him this one." Spike said.

"What, the fire truck?" Fred asked, "No, it's silly. Let me give him something pretty. How about the rainbow. Or the flowers?"

"No," Spike was adamant, "You must give him the fire truck."

Fred turned the picture upside down, turned it back, and decided it wasn't too bad. After all, it was only a finger painting. "Yeah, ok. But what about your pictures, what will you give to Angel?"

Spike smiled, and brandished a picture he had been holding behind him. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed. It was a picture of the sky; darkest blue all over like it is at night. Dotted over the page were white stars and a thin white moon hanging in the corner. "It's the sky, at night, when it's safe to go out." Spike explained, "Angel, gets sad, because he's a vampire. But, I like being a vampire. We used to see the night sky all the time," Spike said almost wistfully, "Angel and Darla liked to look at the sky, Drusilla always made me dance. We used to have fun under night sky."

Fred furrowed her brow, "What did you say?"

Spike's eyes focused on Fred and his expression was childish once more, "Huh? Um… I forgot." He giggled, "Do you think Angel will like my pitcher?"

Spike didn't even notice he had spoken about his former vampire companions. It reminded Fred that this little boy had once cavorted with the likes of Drusilla, a real killer. He was her little Spike now, not the big bad killer he had been. She kissed his hair fondly, "It's beautiful Spike. Angel will love it."

Spike clapped his hands together in pleased excitement, almost crunching his precious

"pitcher" between his palms. "I just need your help to finish it. See here," He pointed to the bottom of the page, where there were two stick figures. Above one in Spike's shaky hand writing was 'Spike' the other figure was nameless. "I need to write Angel's name. But I don't know how."

"It's easy." Fred said, grabbing a piece of paper and writing it down for him, "See, a big pointy 'A', then 'n', 'g', 'e' and a long 'l'."

Spike quickly dipped his finger in the white paint and hurried back to his picture. Taking the paper from her hands, he painstakingly began to copy the name. He got it mostly right, though the 'g' was backwards. When he got to 'e' he smiled. "I have that in my name." He held the finished product up for Fred to see, "What do you think?"

Fred made an affectionate noise and gave him a hug, "I love you so much, you know that right?"

Spike pushed her off bashfully, "Yeah, I know."

"No, really I do Spike." She said. "Of course Angel will love your painting." She sighed and stood up, brushing down her paint covered skirt, "I better get going ok? I'm gonna go get cleaned up then I'll give Wesley his painting." She turned and addressed Angel, "Bye Angel, call me if you need me." Angel nodded and murmured something incomprehensible, not taking his eyes from his work.

"Bye Aun'y Fred." Spike said, hopping toward the door with her. Fred gave Spike one last pat on the head and left him and his grandsire alone.

Spike turned back to the paint mess in the middle of the floor. Aun'y Fred always had the best ideas. Painting was so much fun, even if it was messy. The best things in life were messy; the mess was half the fun. It was just a pity that Angel didn't try painting; it might make him a bit less broody. Spike picked up a handful of the gunky paint left over, a sneaky smile forming on his lips. "Whacha doin'?" He asked Angel.

"Reading something." Angel replied.

"Oh," Spike continued, "Anyfing interesting?"

Angel looked up suspiciously, "What are you up to Spike?"

Spike giggled hysterically, "Nuffing."

"Spike," Angel began. He stopped when a splot of paint hit the papers he was reading. Spike giggled hysterically again, as Angel got to his feet. "Right," he said, striding out from behind his desk and storming over to his little charge, "You are in so much-"

Splat.

A ball of paint hit Angel's chest. Spike was flat on his back laughing when a paint ball collided with his left shoulder. "Oy!" He said, hopping to his feet and assuming a martial arts defence stance. "What was that for?"

"You started it," Angel said.

And the fight was on. Spike lashed back with a double handful of red, but Angel fought back with a ball of green and blue. Back and forth the vollies flew. Angel ducked a purple glob, but took a green on the knee as he recovered. In retaliation, he smeared black all over Spike's sandy hair. Spike screamed and kicked at the paint all over the floor, spraying Angel in multicoloured blobs. The older vampire creamed his adopted son with the mucky paints, his previous concern for Spike's cleanliness forgotten. The two threw paint and slopped it on each other until both where completely covered in brown muck. Spike loved it. The big brooding vampire was just about to lob a handful of paint at Spike when the little vampire called a halt to the fight.

"Pause," said Spike, holding up a hand to stop his grandsire. "I found something."

Angel leaned closer to the child to see what he had found, "What is it?"

"Yellow!" Spike yelled, squirting the bottle all over Angel's sticky-uppy hair.

* * *

"You're so brave." Matilda said adoringly as she walked with Wesley toward his office. The demon girl was hanging off her hero's arm, staring up in rapture at his face as she sung his praises. Wesley was resolutely looking forward. "And handsome." Tilly added. "Do you wear a cape?" 

Wesley looked at her in confusion, "Do I what?"

"Wear a cape?" Tilly repeated, "When you save people. Like a hero does."

"No," Wes said tersely, "I don't wear a cape."

"Maybe you need one." Tilly said, "and a mask. And a cool name. Oooh! And a side-kick."

"Why do I need all these things?"

"Duh!" She said, "'cause you're the hero."

"Oh of course." Wesley sighed, "because I'm the hero." They had finally reached his office, so Wesley opened the door and ushered Tilly inside. Fred was waiting at the desk when they walked in, scratching red paint off her glasses.

"Oh, hey!" she said. She put her glasses back on hurriedly, setting them slightly askew on her nose, and hastened out from behind the desk to greet Wesley.

"Fred." Wesley smiled, greeting her with his usual lingering kiss.

"You're Spike's aunt," Tilly said, steeping between the two loves and splitting them purposefully apart. "and Wesley's girlfriend." She said the last word so maliciously Fred and Wes were in no doubt about her feelings on the position.

"Hey Matilda," Fred said, noticing the girl. "Where did you come from?"

"Wesley rescued me," She said proudly. "He's my hero."

Fred smiled coyly at Wesley "Hero ay?" She said, kissing him softly.

"Yes." Matilda said, pushing Fred away and grabbing Wesley's leg possessively, "_My _hero."

Fred knelt down so that she was level with Matilda, "Can't we share him?" she asked.

Tilly sized her up darkly, "No."

Fred's smile drooped to one side, winning over Tilly was harder than it looked. Sharing hadn't worked, reverse psychology wouldn't either, so Fred decided to use a lure that she knew worked very well on her as a child; bribery and ice-cream. "It must be very hard, being rescued." Fred began.

"Yeah, I doubt you could do it." Tilly agreed.

"Well, I was thinking, you must be hungry." Fred continued slyly, "Maybe we should go out for ice-cream. It's good to keep your sugar levels up after being rescued." Tilly considered this at length. "Wesley could come too and you can tell me how he rescued you." She added to sweeten the deal.

"Well, ok then." Matilda agreed. "As long as you remember that Wesley is _my_ hero, not yours."

"Oh, of course." Fred agreed happily. "Would you like to go get my handbag from the desk then and we'll go." Tilly hurried to the desk off to the desk, greatly excited by the prospect of ice-cream. "You've got a fan." Fred whispered in Wesley's ear when Tilly was out of range.

"She was in trouble," Wesley whispered bag, obviously slightly embarrassed "It's not like I was heroic or anything."

"I think it's cute." Fred said, "my big brave hero."

"Don't let her hear you say that." Wesley whispered furtively.

"Ok" Tilly said as she hurried back, "Ready to go?"

"Very ready," Fred said.

Matilda looped one hand through Wesley's and the other through Fred's. "So Uncle Wes," she said, slyly slipping in the affectionate nickname, "Do you wanna tell Aunty Fred the story, or shall I?"

"You may tell," Wesley said, "I'm sure you'll make it far more dramatic and interesting."

"Well," The child began as the adults lead her out of the office and toward ice-cream, "I had just escaped from the evil cell of doom, and I was on my way to find Spike." Wesley smiled over Matilda's head at Fred and she smiled back. With the little girl chatting merrily between them, the couple looked the very picture of domestic bliss, and both Wesley and Fred were quietly very pleased with the picture.

From behind the happy trio there came a sudden rushing sound. They turned around and felt the gush of some dark unseen wind. As it rushed past it flung Fred up against the wall and sent Wesley crashing to the floor. Fred gasped for air as the chill wind past through her, freezing her bones and her skin. Her veins stung like they where made of ice and her breath was squeezed out of her chest. From the looks of Wesley staggering from the floor and Tilly collapsed in the hallway they felt the vile wind too. Fred reached out a hand toward Matilda, and pulled the child into her arms.

"What was-" she began

Tilly collapsed into Fred's knees. "Spike," she gasped, falling to the floor, "It's the shadows, they're coming for him."

* * *

In the lobby outside his office, Angel felt the shadows coming. The whole office froze as the chill wind past over them. Files blew around the rooms; lawyers ducked and fell as the shadows chased them. A great dark fog swirled around the office, before darting toward Angel's office. 

The vampire watched in horror. "No," He whispered, "Spike."

* * *

Spike was sitting alone at Angel's desk. The cleaning crew had done a good job, there wasn't a hint of the paint fights that had ravaged the office earlier that day. Angel had done a good job on Spike and the little vampire was fresh and clean. He hadn't had a chance to give Angel his painting yet, so he decided to leave it as a gift on the table. Pushing the other junk off the table and onto the floor, Spike placed his painting in the centre of the desk proudly. 

He was still surveying his artwork proudly when there was a commotion outside. People started screaming and shouting and something big and loud roared in the corridor. Spike ran toward the doors in a hurry to find Angel, but before he got halfway across the room the doors where flung open. A huge shadowy spectre filled the room, looming about and all around Spike. Out of the darkness grew a face, and a form, and then many forms. Spike recognised them as the people from his dreams. The people he had killed.

He stumbled backwards, and felt the cold chill of the shadows behind him. A figure rose above the rest and stretched out it's long shadowy arm to pull him towards it. The figure bared its white pointy teeth, shining in the shadows of it's pale grey smoke skin. It was a woman, old and wrinkled. Spike recognised this woman, as his once mortal mother.

"_We have come, little vampire." _She said, _"It is time you paid for what you have done."_


	12. Must Come To An End

**Chapter 12  
Must Come to an End**

E/D: Illy was so distraught topost this sheasked me if she could do it later 'cause it'd be the end of"Raising Hell"P,but here it is, in all it's glory. If there were any typo's or spelling errorsin any of the chapters, I swear she put them in after I checked it.  
Bon appetit! (and tell her to write a sequel, I get so bored!)

A/N: A quick note on the story before I start the big she-bang good byes. The "shadows" are the spirits of Spike's past victims. I chose this as a threat, because as we repeatedly see as a vampire with a soul, Angel is tortured by his past crimes. For Spike these shadows are the physical manifestation of that guilt. Children often deal with things more physically than adults. Ok, so now that I've said that P

Last chapter! Wowo. I've got to say it's been a long enjoyable time for me. I've been writing this for nearly six months, it was the first fic I wrote in the Jossverse.

I want to thank you all for reading, because without readers, writing is practically superfluous.

Special thanks to the reviewers who keep coming back and reviewing. It's nice to see a familiar name on a review, I realy value you guys: msu, Screeching Dragon, and especially Spike's Girl Luna Ash who has reviewed since chapter 1.

Hello and hugs to my constant reviewer and fanfic friend Freezyboncoolipants! P does the dance of being 15! (remember that? Funny P)

And a very special thankyou to Higgy, who set the challenge for this fic and who reviewed me all the way.

I'm going to miss you all once this is over. I hope some of you will read my other stuff, but if not, then I guess this is goodbye. Sometime down the line I'm thinking of writing a sequel, so we'll see ay? Have fun ya'll. Thanks for reading.

If you'll all divert your eyes downwards, the last chapter of "Raising Hell" is below.

* * *

"What do you mean the "shadows" are coming for Spike?" Fred asked. She and Wesley were holding Tilly up between them, the little girl almost passed out in their arms.

"The shadows, I can feel them." Tilly said.

"Who are they, Matilda?" Wesley asked, "What do they want?"

"The things he did, the people he killed, they've come for him. They…they want him to pay." Her eyes flashed a brilliant white and her voice deepened with the echo of angry spirits. "_We shall do to you what you have done to us. Are you afraid to die, little dead thing?" _

Tilly kicked out violently as something coursed through her filling her with its rage. "Hold her still!" Wesley instructed. Fred grabbed Matilda and between the two of them they managed to hold her. The little demon in Fred arm's writhed and struggled as the shadows possessed her. Fred was terrified, her eyes were wide and her hands shaking."It's alright Fred," Wesley said calmly, "It will pass."

Fred looked into his comfortingly stable eyes and nodded. She had to be strong and help, for Matilda and Spike. This wasn't the time to be scared. The possession did pass, and within seconds the girl fell still again. Fred tried carefully to lift Tilly's head from her chest where it lolled after her collapse. "Matilda?" She ventured carefully.

"We need you to wake up now, Matilda." Wesley said loudly and deliberately, "We need you to tell us where the shadows are. Spike needs your help."

Tilly opened her eyes with effort, "A-Angel's office," she said. She tried to stand but her knees gave way and she fell heavily into Fred. She looked pleadingly up at the young scientist, "Spike's on his own. They're gonna kill him."

"We have to help him," Fred stated the obvious. She carefully lifted Tilly onto her lap as the little girl wobbled dangerously close to falling over again.

"What about Matilda?" Wesley asked. "She can't stay here alone."

"I want to come too." Tilly said. The adults exchanged dubious looks, "Please? I'll be ok in a minute. Spike's my best friend. He's my _only_ friend. I have to help him."

"Alright," Wesley agreed. "Fred, you wait with Matilda while she recovers."

"Where are you going?" She asked Wesley.

"To get weapons." He replied.

Fred furrowed her brow, "What sort of a weapon do you use against a shadow?"

* * *

"M-mummy?" Spike asked, looking up at the imposing spectres. The shadows swirled around Spike, leering and shouting, baring their hideously long teeth and glowering with their red eyes.

"_Remember us?" _his mother screeched, "_remember how sweet your mother's blood tasted on your sinful lips?" _He did remember them, all of them. The way they cried when he bit into their necks, the way their bodies fell limp, the way they tasted on his devilish tongue. _"You thought you could run, you thought you could hide. But we have found you."_

"No, it's not true. I don't want to hide." Spike sobbed, "Mummy, I just want you to forgive me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"_You didn't mean to take our lives? You didn't mean to kill us all? You didn't mean to laugh over our cold bodies?"_

"I'm sorry," Spike said.

"_Sorry helps nothing!" _The ghost shrieked. She lashed out at the boy, her arm impossibly long, and slapped him hard across the face. Her ghostly nails solidified and scraped the skin from his cheek. Spike cried out. His cheek stung. "_How dare you cry, little killer? How dare you shed a tear? It is we who have cried. We who are dead!" _She lashed out again at his cheek, this time drawing blood.

* * *

Angel struggled through the office. The air was thick; it was like trying to run through water. He thrashed wildly at the shadows to no avail. "Let me through!" He screamed at the shapeless smog before him, "Spike! Let me through damn it! Don't you dare hurt him!"

"_This is not your business vampire." _The shadows hissed, "_the thing will pay for what he has done, you cannot stop us."_

"The hell I can't." Angel said, thrashing his way toward the office doors. From behind the wooden barricade, he heard Spike's feeble sobs. "Spike," He yelled, "I'm coming. It's ok."

* * *

"Angel?" Spike called hopefully. "Angel?!" Frightened tears dribbled down his face, mingling with the blood there from his cuts. "Help me, Angel. Please, help me!"

The shadow smiled maliciously, "_Think your hero will save you?" _she asked, "_Think you deserve saving? You don't! The vampire cannot save you, nor should he. He's as vile and disgusting as you. Just as much a killer. Once we have killed you, we will kill him. Do you know why little vampire?"_

"Be-because we're killers." Spike whispered.

_"What are you?" _The shadow screeched.

"Killers!" Spike yelled. "Killers! Bad, evil, killers!" He jumped to his feat and screamed the word over and over again, believing it more and more as his voice got louder and louder. "Killers, killers, killers! We're killers!"

The shadow smacked him down again, the blow sending him tumbling backward. _"Killers." _The shadow agreed, _"this is all you are. Your precious "soul" will not save you, will not redeem you, will not hide you. You cannot pretend you are good, because we know, we know what you are, what you always will be." _The great shadowy hand lashed out again, clawing at Spike's chest. The little vampire tried to scramble away, but the shadows were everywhere. They tore at his clothes and scratched his skin. Their nails were long and sharp, the cuts they caused stung, filled with a shadowy and unseen poison. Spike could feel all their hands and teeth clawing and snapping. His mother's face loomed above him, the way she had been moments before her final death, hideously glowing yellow eyes, the heavy demon brow, sharp animal white teeth; a vampire. She was screeching at him "_This is what you get little killer! This is what you deserve! We'll kill you, vampire scum, just like you killed all of us!"_

Spike stopped struggling, letting the clawed hands rip and tear at him. The hands attacking him tossed his little body from side to side, but he simply crossed his arms over his chest and shut his tearful eyes. "This is what I deserve." He whispered, "I am bad, and I should be punished. Kill me, mummy, please. Just kill me"

The door slammed open. Crashing against the wall so hard it came flying off it's hinges. His mother's face vanished from above Spike, as the shadows turned to see to intruder. They squealed in anger as something very strong forced them apart, thrashing its way toward Spike.

"Kill me!" The little vampire yelled desperately, eyes still clamped shut waiting for his pain to finally be over. He thrashed out violently at the invisible creatures around him, tumbling and kicking wildly on the carpet. "Kill me!" He screamed again "I'm a killer, I deserve it! Why aren't you killing me?!"

Something strong and heavy grabbed him round the waist and held him tight, stoping his mad thrashing. "Spike," It was Angel. Angel had come to rescue him after all. "Spike stop it." He said.

Spike fell still. With much effort he opened his red eyes and looked up into the face of his grandsire, "Angel?" he asked, "No!" he screamed, struggling wildly again, "Let me go. I want them to take me. I deserve it, Angel. Don't you see? I'm bad!"

"No, Spike," Angel said, "You're not bad."

"Yes I am!" the vampire screamed. "I killed them all! I just killed them. I'm a murderer, a killer, I need to die. I'm bad."

"Not anymore," Angel insisted, still struggling with the madly thrashing child, "You were bad, but you're good now, I know it. I've seen it. You died once to save the world, do you remember that? You're good Spike, you're a hero now."

"No," Spike sobbed, "No I'm not."

"You have to be," Angel said, his voice barely a whisper, "You have to be good, so I can be good. We'll be heroes together Spike."

Spike stopped kicking. "Angel," He sobbed, crying into the older vampire's chest, "I wanna be good. I do."

"So do I, Spike," Angel said.

"_Well guess what?" _screeched the spirit, suddenly looming above them, "_you're not good, either of you. You've come to save him? Then you can die as well." _The shadows flew around the vampires cowering on the floor, the cold wind whipping Angel's coat as he crouched over Spike to protect his little child.

"You want to take him?" Angel shouted "Then you'll have to go through me."

The angry spirit laughed, _"Don't you listen?" _it hissed madly, "_I'm perfectly happy with killing you both." _All at once the hundreds of shadowy bodies charged at the pair. As each one passed through him, Angel felt his dead hart freeze with the icy wind. They were like cold knives, stabbing every inch of him over and over and over. He cried out as they attacked him, knocking him backward. The pain was unbearable. He could feel every inch of him screaming in agony. It was like having all his muscles ripped from his bones, all his flesh scratched away. He was paralysed by cold and pain and something else entirely; guilt. He tried to move, tried to reach out; he had to find Spike and protect him at all costs. "Spike!" He yelled. "Spike!"

"Angel!" The little vampire struggled to break free of the shadows clawing at his legs. With a great effort, Spike dragged himself over to Angel, grabbing hold of the vampire's hand. "Angel, don't let go of me." He said.

"I won't." Angel promised. "I'm here Spike, I'll always be here. I love you."

The shadows worsened their attacks. Angel looked down at the little vampire beside him. Spike's eyes where closed, he wasn't moving. The shadows rushed at him, causing his little limbs to spasm, but Spike didn't open his eyes.

"Spike?" Angel called out desperately, "Spike?" He could feel the little vampire's hand clasped in his own growing hot and then suddenly very cold again. "Spike? What's going on?"

_"Your demon magic won't help you, vampire." _The shadows yelled, "_Nothing can save you now. You will not be redeemed; you will die as we did."_

"Demon magic?" Angel mumbled confused. The shadows we're consuming him, he was going to fall unconscious, "Spike," he whispered, "Spike it's ok. I'm here."The shadows loomed above him, laughing maliciously. They were coming in for the kill.

Then there was light; glorious heavenly light. It flooded the room; huge beams of hot white light spilling in through the door destroying the shadows. The dark spectres screamed and wailed, but they could do nothing to fight the glow that was pouring in through the broken doors. Their dark bodies dissipated, their vengeful voices faded.

"Sunlight." Angel mused. The shadows were gone, but he and Spike would burn in seconds. The sunlight had saved them only to condemn them once more. He struggled desperately to help Spike somehow; he had to protect the little vampire from burning under the sunlight. But he couldn't find the strength to move.

"Angel," it was Wesley. Angel looked slowly towards the door, squinting past the streaming light. He could just see Wes and Fred, and Spike's little friend Matilda, framed in the doorway. They where holding something in each of their hands--Torches; big, bright torches. It wasn't sunlight after all, it was torch light that had saved them.

"Wesley," Angel said gratefully. The watcher walked carefully into the office, shining his torch in the corners to be sure the shadows where well and truly gone. "Great timing," the vampire said, sitting painfully up.

"We-we brought torches," Tilly shouted to Angel from the safe distance of the doorway.

Angel smiled gratefully at his friends. "Thanks. Good idea."

"Are you hurt?" Wesley asked.

"No, but… Spike…" Angel tried to find the words, still recovering from the shadow's attacks, "we have to get Spike to the hospital."

"Why?" Fred gasped, "Were we too late? Is he… he's gonna be ok right?"

"I don't know," Angel said, "He just - he fainted- then he was really hot, and then cold. And he won't wake up- I don't know what's happening to him."

"I do," said Wesley, "He's growing up."

* * *

They were gathered in the same hospital room they had been in almost three months before; Wesley, Fred and Angel. Tilly was with them this time, standing with Fred's arms around her, holding Wesley's hand. Angel was on the other side of the bed, sitting in the same chair he had sat in last time, watching the small blond vampire sleep, as he had done so long ago. Spike's makeshift family waited around his bed, looking on worriedly at the little vampire they had come to love.

It had seemed like such a curse when it happened; this little demon child thrust into the vampire's hands. Angel had resented him, been angry with him, maybe even hated him a little for causing all this trouble. Still, he had taken Spike in, because some part of him wanted this son to love. And he did love Spike. It was impossible not to. Which was, by fate's cruel conditions, why Spike had to grow up.

Lying in the hospital bed, the white sheets tucked up under his little pale chin; he looked so helpless. So loveable. So untroubled. Why couldn't it stay like this?

"Did…did the Doctor say how long it would take?" Angel asked slowly.

Wesley shook his head, "He described it as a very fast process, perhaps five or ten minutes."

"What's happening now?" Asked Fred. "He's still all little… shouldn't he… do something?"

"Spike's body is gathering the strength it needs to grow." Wes explained, "that's why he's asleep. It will be a few hours probably, before his body is ready."

The group was silent, all eyes on Spike. Everyone in the room had grown to love the little child and now he was being taken from all of them. It didn't seem fair, that they could all be so happy one minute, and the next minute, all be so sad. They would all be so much happier if Spike stayed a child, but that wasn't fair on him. He had to grow up; they had to let him go.

"Will it hurt?" Tilly asked finally.

"No," Wesley assured her. "It will be painless. He probably won't even remember."

"Will he remember us?" Tilly asked.

"I don't know." The watcher answered quietly.

Fred took a shuddering breath in, trying to push back her tears. Wesley gave her a reassuring kiss, and Tilly squeezed her hand, "It's ok Aunty Fred." She said.

"Sorry" she sniffed, "look at me, all teary eyed like he's dying or something."

"It feels like he is." Angel said quietly.

"He's not," Wesley said firmly.

Angel sighed, "I don't want to lose him, not again."

"Do you think he knows? That we love him?" Fred asked after another silent pause.

"I'm sure he does." Wesley said.

"I-I don't want him to grow up not knowing that we all love him." She whispered, through her silent tears. She tip-toed over to Spike, leaning down carefully to whisper in his ear, "Spike," she whispered to the sleeping boy, "I love you."

Tilly scurried over to the bed as well, "Spike, I love you too." She said, "but not in a cooties way!" she added hurriedly, "I just… I love you. A-and when you grow up, you can come find me and we'll fight ninja's together ok?"

Wesley put an arm around Fred's shoulders and offered his other arm to Tilly. He gave Fred a comforting kiss on the forehead. "Thankyou Spike," he said, as he absently patted Tilly's dark grey hair. "It has been… quite the experience knowing you like this."

All eyes moved to the ancient vampire, sitting stoically in his chair. He held Spike's little hand in his own, watching almost mournfully. "Spike," Angel said quietly. "I love you." He sighed, wanting to say more. There weren't any words to say it with. "Just- just don't forget that. Ever. I will always love you."

The little family was silent, all huddled around the bed of the vampire child who had changed their lives so much; waiting for him to grow up and leave them all.

"Is that enough?" Tilly asked. "Does he know we love him?"

"Yes," Fred said, kissing Tilly softly on the head, "I'm sure he does."

"What will happen when he grows up?" Tilly asked.

Angel wondered the same thing.

* * *

Angel sat alone in his office, staring at a piece of A4 paper.

Spike had returned to his normal size and age without incident at about 10 O'clock that evening. The first thing he had done was ask for his duster and a pack of cigarettes.

It had been very awkward. Spike was angry and groggy and he had soon yelled at them all to "leave him the hell alone". Dr Mordred said he would talk to Spike, explain his condition. Fred and Wesley took Matilda home with them. Angel returned to his office.

It was now 11:53

He wondered where Spike was now. For the last three months, Spike had hardly left his sight, had been completely under the older vampire's care. Now he was grown up again. He could go where he liked, he could do what he liked. He was back to hating his grandsire.

The days of paint wars and fighting ninja's were over. For a moment, existence had been worth existing in, but for Angel, it was back to brooding through his un-life.

Angel looked down at the piece of paper clasped in his hands. It was a picture Spike had painted that morning with Fred. Spike had smeared the page with thick black paint. All over were little white stars. Spike's tiny finger prints were left in the paint where he had pressed each spot onto the paper; impressions in the white stars that would last forever. At the bottom, there were two figures, Spike, and Angel.

His contemplation was interrupted suddenly, by an all to familiar voice. "Oy, Angel are you—here?" Spike called, saying the last word more quietly as he waked into the office and found that Angel was indeed "here"

"Spike," Angel said, standing slowly, "Hi."

"Yeah, hi," the younger vampire said. They stood at opposite ends of the office facing each other for a long while. Spike looked vaguely lost, as if he had forgotten why he had come, or changed his mind about it. Angel was almost expressionless as usual, though his eyes were nervous. "You know what?" Spike said tersely heading for the door, "Stuff this. Don't know why I sodding well came."

"Wait Spike-" Angel said.

"Wait what?" He snapped.

"I-I think we should…talk… about this." Angel said.

"Talk about what?" Spike retorted sharply, "Talk about how you played happy families for the last three months and used me in your father-hood fantasies? No, I don't think I want to talk. I want to have a good strong drink and bloody well repress it all."

"Spike!" Angel barked. He was back to his usual rivalry and anger toward Spike, and he hated it, "That's not what it was like."

"What was it like?"

"It was… I-I cared about you Spike." Spike scoffed. "Look, I'm trying to talk to you Spike and you're making it very difficult for me!"

"Difficult?" Spike seethed, "Try living as a defenceless snot nosed kid for three months. Try not knowing how to read or tie your shoelaces. Try looking up to you like you're some soddin'… _hero_. That's difficult"

"Spike, just grow up!" Angel said through gritted teeth, "Can't we have a sensible adult conversation for five minutes; without you acting like a child?!"

He smirked maliciously at Angel, saying slyly, "I thought you liked me better as I child."

"I did." Angel seethed, "I liked you a lot as a child. I loved you. You were all I cared about. You made me _happy_." He dropped his voice low, anger bubbling in his voice "But those times are over, as you've just proven to me. You're the same annoying brat you were three months ago."

"Fine," Spike said, "Fine then. I'm leaving, does that make you _happy_?" He stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Almost immediately, he opened it again. "Do you know…why I came to see you?" he asked. He wasn't the angry-brat-Spike who had slammed the door moments before though, when he spoke, he looked tired and smaller somehow. "No, 'course you don't. I came to say- "thank you". For looking after me an tuckin' me into bed and tellin' me bedtime stories." His tone was softer now, completely devoid of his previous venom. "I was defenceless and well… you know… little. And you looked after me. So I just wanted to say, thanks." He said the last word so soberly he seemed to surprise himself. "Ok, so… I'll leave now."

"Spike," Angel called him back for the second time that evening, "I…um…you're welcome." He said. Angel raised his eyes to look at Spike. They looked at each other for a long while, the anger subsiding and being replaced by awkwardness and uncertainty. Angel didn't know how this was going to work. He didn't know how they were supposed to act anymore. "How's this gonna work, Spike?" He asked. "The last three months meant so much to me, you meant so much to me. Is there some way… we can not lose that?"

"I don't know" Spike said uncertainly, "But, I don't wanna kill you any more, Peaches, that's a start right?"

"Yeah," Angel said, knowing Spike not wanting to kill him was a pretty big deal, "that's a start."

"I see you-uh- got my picture." Spike said, pointing to the painting in Angel's hands.

"Um-yeah." Angel said, "Thanks."

"It's the sky-at night." Spike explained superfluously, "it's supposed to remind you of the good times-the fun we had-dancing under the stars and all. You can just throw it out." Spike said, reaching for the picture to dispose of it himself.

"No-" Angel snatched it away, "I mean-no, I was going to stick it up on the wall. To remind me of the good times," he said pointedly, "the fun we had."

"Great," Spike smiled, "I mean, yeah. Ok." He corrected himself, the latter in his usual badass tone. He smiled and Angel felt that there might be hope after all. A new kind of truce was forming between them. "I'm gonna go find Fred." Spike said, pointing over his shoulder at the door, "Thank her for being my aunt and all. I'll have to see if she'll kiss me so often now I'm big again."

"Good," Angel agreed uncertainly, "Yeah, best to go… see Fred." He didn't want Spike to leave, but he couldn't very well make him stay.

"I'll come back after?" Spike suggested. "to see where you put my painting. As the artist I should check that you're not displaying it in a way that wrecks my creative vision."

"Great," agreed Angel, "I'd like that."

"See you later then, Peaches," Spike said.

"Stay out of trouble." Angel said almost instinctively. He wished he hadn't. It sounded so fatherly and he didn't want to aggravate the delicate situation further.

Spike stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Angel smiling his most devilish smile, "You know I won't" he said, before sauntering out of the office.

That was how it was going to be, Angel thought. That was ok.


End file.
